Memories, memories, the only recordings of one's experiences, they seem to float in one's mind, sometimes surfacing and refreshing, reviving the whole feeling, but only for a while, so that one can only sense a hinting flashback.
That usually happens to those who decide to reject the present and spend time seeking comfort in conjuring up the past.
Such an occupation seemed entertaining for me, as I set back on a plain plastic chair, one of those ordinary ones that can be found in almost every common residence, and simply focused my sight on the permanent horizon, in order to find myself an unobtrusive object to contemplate...
It was an extremely sunny day, so sunny and hot that every second spent under the generous sun seemed to evaporate and exhaust every living cell of yours. This fact, however, was even worsened by the smoke, which came somewhere from the pipes of a small industrial town, cruelly corroding your nostrils and forcing your lungs to contract. The crowd in those narrow stuffy and sultry streets enjoyed practicing manners that were remarkable for undue familiarity towards the neighbour, their attitude lacked privacy and secrecy as same as forbearance and patience. Such unique traits acquired by the inhabitants of the town during long decades made the town itself insulated since these characteristics made it very hard for a foreigner to enter the life of the small city fluently and without insulting the inhabitants, who for their turn spoke of foreigners as of someone who could have "set the ant hill on fire".
As for me, there was no one in the world as lovely and sweet as those simple-minded dwellers that preferred to be isolated rather than to discover and be discovered, since all of them composed my neighbourhood.
In such conditions habitual to the environment a little girl tried to rush toward the throng that crowded the market. The wooden counters that have darkened in the profitable process of exploitation were cramming of stock which consisted of a large variety of offhandedly put clothing, books, crockery, automobile spare parts, among with homemade cakes, fruit, vegetables and flowers. Above such multifarious variety one could often see a towering figure of a Viking-like market woman who continually shot a glance at the merchandise, which seemed to be her proud and there appeared to be only a good reason for taking possession of it by a purchaser. The market beared resemblance to a giant hornet's nest with all its buzzing and droning.
The girl continued to make her way through the