As I was loading the bys yesterday a tiny little woman that I have worked in teh felds with appeared at my side. With her one-year-old tied to her back (I have never seen her without him there) she hugged me like a daughter. Our seat assignments were on opposite ends of the bus, but that didn´t keep her little body from finding her way next to me. For a majority of the ride her little one was on my lap slobbering up the window or smashing cookies into my pants. I loved every minute. When he got fussy she would ship out her tit and he would attach himself laying sideways. His lips connected at one end, and his little feet walkng all over the back of the seat in front of us. I convinced her to sleep and I would watch ovr him for a bit. As her head bobbled lazily over the asphalt-less road, her breasts still exposed under her rolled sweater, the little one too fell asleep in my lap. It must hav been funny to see such a tradtional woman and child so cozily cuddled up together with a little white woman in te last seat on the bus.
In his sleep he pantomimed nursng and his tiny little feet danced all over my legs. My emnotions fluctuated for most of the ride. To be born here. The beauty of the ancient life he will lead, and the challeng expressng itself in the obvious gum infection he already carries. Of course, his chubby cheecks, long curly hair and chewing in his sleep reminded me of my brother.
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