It is 7 am. I am sitting in the bus heading to San Pedro Sula. I was thinking to leave yesterday morning but I woke up from a dream about death. Someone was trying to convince someone (me?) to commit suicide. At the last moment, I rebelled and refused. I got very angry and physically fought back. When I awoke, it was dark and I was in no mood to go. This morning, at 5:50 the alarm went off and I got up, bright and easy.
I just remembered that today is the anniversary of my mother´s death 50 years ago. She was 47. From where I sit, it seems so young. As I take a moment to think about her, the bus starts to move.
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