I.
Agitation. A little shaking. Just the turbulence of the engine of the bus, in which the small, dark-skinned lad outstrips his annoying day at school. However the reason, why this boy, a friend for some, a social misfit for others, an outsider and for most of his teachers a hard-working scholar, leans against the thick glass panel of this motorised vehicle, transporting him off from school and back to the little town he lives in. He enjoys these vibrations, while his deep, full voice could not reveal his origin, because he was not speaking, only listening to the susurrus of the wind, rushing beside his head. Only the darkness of his skin and his eyes may betray the secret of his Ancestry.
