The building was very small. Big posters or newly developed advertisements were nowhere to be found. The moldy humid walls breathed oldness and careless caretaking. The impudence of the men with guns brought a fearful environment to the waiting room and the arbitrary movements of people coming and going gave her an uneasy feeling.
The sun was setting behind the dust filling the air. A hot breeze floated, dispersing the various aromas around. The air was heavy, too dense for regular breathing. The overwhelming mix of smells suddenly brought a nauseous feeling, which did not move along in flow with the overall excitement of being there. She could sense curry and garbage, sweat and rust, cigarettes and piss, all melting and blending.
The airplanes taking off and landing could be heard stridently, mixing up with the voices of random strangers chatting.
The rubbing against her bag, the forced clumsiness bringing them closer to her, the curiosity and eagerness to look, lay a hand on her clothes, feel her hands was irresistible and she could only tolerate it. Soon she would understand what it was.
