I looked down at the hot concrete beneath my bare feet. It felt as though I was walking on a stove. The blisters forming on my feet were being tortured with every step I took. The walk to the small shop took so long, it was a journey I had to take twice every day.
Up before dawn, I had been walking for two long hours. The sun was now high in the sky and beading down on my dark hair. I looked in the window of fancy pastry shops and bakerys. The cakes and deserts frosted and moist, a mirage, something I could see but would never experience, never taste. I was hungry.
Thinking back to my small meal this morning, I realised how drained of energy I was.
a bullfighter lead his bull across the road from where I was standing. Probably for publicity, the big bullfighting competition was to be held in a couple days. The whole city gathering there, watching in anticipation, amaezment and awe. But not I, I would be going to the shop. i would be working. I wish I could see just one bullfight before i died.
At this moment I heard a lady scream, followed by many others. then I realised, the bull had gotten loose. Charging everywhere the bull was a free spirt, an animal not meant for a place like this. Not to be in captivity.
I met eyes with the creature and it stopped in its tracks. Studying the bulls enormous black frame and sharp horns I strangely didn't feel indimidated. This was soon to change. The animal seemed to change its feelings toward me because it was comming right for me. My reflexes never felt so quick in my life, I had turned around and was running the other way.
Looking around, I was frantically looking for a place to run ...
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