The midday sun pushes on my shoulders, arms and legs, eating into my scalp. I pour the rest of the water bottle on my neck, but even that is burning now. A week ago, Piero offered to show me Havana and since then we meet every morning at the center of the shadow-free stairs Capitolios. Supposedly it has the best view from here and will therefore also the fastest. Every morning I wait for hours to Piero.
While I hope to continue to discover his white clothes on the street or between the old body in the parking lot, I see a woman up the stairs rises to me. Before each step she blows out his cheeks and presses the air as soon as they have a Stage came later, out again. This increase and decrease their fat layers under the checkered shirt and her bag, she is clutching the strap, proposes the setting. Her gaze is fixed on the input of the Capitolios. She looks are not the small tractor. Before they can reach me half way, he gets in his way. "Water, ma'am? Rum, Cigars? "He jumps into a small semi-circle around her, is a step above her, and is now as big as them. Her foot, she has been raised to the next step remains in the balance. Short, it looks as if the woman lose his balance, but then she is able to Foot retreat again and to put him alongside the other. She still tries to focus on the little ones by the Capitolio. But he follows her and forces her head turns to look at him. "Water, Cigars?" He repeated. She shakes her head. Then he comes even closer to her, reaches into his bag, pulls out a stack of postcards and holds it to her without a word to his nose. The woman casts a right and left, as if they expect help from there. "Let me yet," she says finally. The little one is exchanging the postcards for a cigar box. At the same moment he is called from below. At the foot of the stairs, one of the photographers released from his box and it beckons to him. The little wooden box that can slide back into his pocket, the woman jumps out of the way down the steps. Once at the bottom, he is referred to a young couple who willingly bends over his bag. A few yards behind them, Piero winds through the parked cars. At his movements can be seen not the slightest hurry. I get dizzy when I get up. I stagger down the first steps, walk past the woman. Also, it has set in motion again.
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