Anyone who enjoys a spend time observing people and what happens around him can find great satisfaction going up on public transport.
I climbed on the subway, gaining a little corner where you can also put my luggage, when looking up I noticed an elderly woman sitting not far from me. He wore dark glasses with big lenses, light brown hair conveyed the unnaturalness of their color, her tiny body showed signs of old age, his skin tanned vaguely similar to the fragile tissue paper. She was dressed in an accurate but simple, with particular attention to detail.
dachshund in her arms a fawn: the look proud, composed attitude, the look impenetrable. Sitting on the legs of his mistress from time to time he dropped his head on the shoulder of the woman, leaning slowly toward her. For any movement, the woman approached showing the natural affection that united them. Continue their dance of contacts, whose time was sometimes marked by dachshund, sometimes by the woman.
lose myself in their movements and could not help but smile tenderly proud of compounds, in a dirty, smelly subway full of people crowded together, they confirmed their belonging together, as if had nothing else in the world but themselves.
Their dance was abruptly interrupted by the voice of a woman who could not see, but I guessed it had to be sitting right in front of my pair. High-volume voice praising the beauty of the dachshund and gave great ideas to his boss to tell of his precious companion.
The subway stopped, many people came down and I finally was able to identify where it came from the voice: it was a great lady, vulgar movements and inappropriate words. However the elderly woman did not matter that the voice had broken a sweet and melodious rhythm and crept Allanton now to the harmony of their movements. The dachshund, on the contrary seemed quite annoyed by this intrusion and begins staring coldly that she was facing. Meanwhile, his mistress, regardless of the questions that the woman placed on the animal began the story of his amazing story.
The dachshund was a female, was called Akkub. She had been donated by the wife of Commander Che Guevara when he was only a few months. He was fed only with appropriate choice meat from the butcher, cooked and served with boiled zucchini pasta: what one might say a balanced diet.
But after a few stories, the old woman seemed to have decided to return to its previous state and together with the dachshund, they resume their position, scompostasi following discontinuation.
I got to my stop leaving inappropriate voice that tried to resume his disruptive and my careless couple who took over the dance of his membership.