The bus

September, a day just like any other. Grey ski, fresh; as usual I left home, hurriedly saying Goodbye to my wife who doesn’t want to see me go. Today, as well, she’ll be at home by herself all morning, until the kids arrive. She won’t meet anyway because we live on the outskirts of a little

(2000 inhabitants) town in the Bassa region, where opportunities to meet people are few and limited to the evenings when everyone comes home from work.

IIn the garage there’s my car to take me to town, in my comfortable and spacious office on the top floor of a skyscraper; from here it seems you can touch the clouds with a finger.

When my obsequious collegues enter, their subordinate attitude pleases me and accentuates my privileged position. This morning, however, my car doesn’t want to know

anything about starting…probably a flat battery or some other bloody thing that doesn’t work …with all this electronics the garage mechanics rip us off and doen’t understand anything. I’ll give them a piece of my mind. €1200 for a service and this bloody thing has decided not to start. I’ll have to get the bus! I set off, sadly, towards the bus stop, thinking about the last chats with my sons. The elder one wants a new car, the younger a motorbike. They say they feel different from their friends who already have cars and motorbikes for several months and they’re sick of being the odd ones out.

It seems their girlfriends prefer their friends with fashionable means of transport, rather than them who seem two paupers. Of course…at their age I walked everywhere and almost all my friends did the same thing.

Perhaps because we were all poorer than today…who knows! What a struggle to get what I have today. A life spent between two jobs and overtime, Saturdays and Sundays spent looking after the factories and then the stress, the backstabbing with colleagues to climb the career ladder, the work dinners, rages…all this for some rare moments of peace with the family, being better-off (but how true is this?), a heart attack & double bypass, the discovery of two sons I hardly know, reaching old age without realizing it! Will it have all been worth it? But what will I really have done for others? What will life have given me?

Let all go to hell. Today I am really pissed off. Here’s my bus that’s coming.

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