The wind was blowing very hard, knocking over objects, making many hats fall off people’s heads and roll as they hit the ground, revealing the ruffled hairs of their owners. Men in jeans walked proudly showing off their best pair of well-polished boots. Women wore well-applied make up, perfume, and their best dresses in bright colors which outlined their figures when walking. The atmosphere was full of laughter, flirtation, puppy-love, and the disposition to enjoy the fair. Nobody cared that the tin roof sheets resounded with a crash every time they were tossed by the wind. Suddenly, the rain fell cruelly on the entire town of Jutiapa and the people who were in the field of the fair ran in different directions, trying to find a place to protect themselves from the rain so as not to get wet.
Lark went to sleep that midnight with a smile on her lips and joy in her heart. The satisfaction she felt for having won the singing contest made her thoughts race, as she remembered how the audience applauded her with admiration and gave her a standing ovation as a show of respect. Lark stayed awake watching the moon through the window of the truck cab until her fatigue overcame her, forcing her to fall asleep deeply.
The hand of the clock moves constantly and invariably, following its own leisurely rhythm; while each second is converted into present time, and soon is “IN THE PAST”. And it never stops… Unless the source of energy that drives it to keep working is consumed with the accelerated pace of its own job, until it stops working due to wear and tear caused over the years.