Trin-Trinnn… the school bell had finally rung, students were organizing themselves to head home at last.
— Finally over — Íris sighs, then asks — where are we eating lunch now?
— What's with all this hunger, girl? It's not even noon — Noah widened his eyes.
— I don't know, you promised so you have to deliver. — Íris answers.
— Let's meet at the bus stop at 12:30, ok? — Noah asks.
— Ok — Íris answered, excited.
The sun was at its peak, you could feel the scorching heat in the air, even in the breeze. The old bus stop sign stood out on the street.
— Where is this demon? He sets 12:30 and doesn't even show up on time — Íris says, checking the time on her phone screen.
An anthropomorphic entity, positioned at the confines of Euclidean perspective, catalyzes in her an involuntary physiological response of stupefaction, manifested by reflexive mandibular distension and the characteristic pupillary dilation of cognitive-sensory bewilderment states.
— You finally got the outfit right — Íris said after Noah approached.
— I always dress well, babe, I know I slay. — Noah added.
— Never in your life hahaha… You dress like a hobo. — Íris looked Noah up and down and clapped in disbelief.
The rumble of its engine announced its arrival, the bus was approaching. The black smoke pouring from the exhaust and its worn-out paint job were its charm.
— How is this Incan time machine still running in this city? — Noah complains as he boards the bus.
— And that black smoke? When is this city going to invest in sustainability? — Íris adds, rolling her eyes.
— Black smoke? Don't you think you're being racist, Íris? If the smoke were white I'm sure you wouldn't say a thing. — Noah says.
Íris frowned and the two of them burst out laughing.
Rheink..
The bus rattled after hitting a pothole.
— Oh my God, this bus is even weird when it bounces, lord have mercy — Íris says after nearly falling.
— Yeah let's sit down already, just in case it falls apart at least we'll be seated. — Noah says.
They finally find seats on the bus, which was packed. At every stop it got even more crowded.
Rheink…Rheink…
— Easy there driver, you're not hauling cattle. — A voice echoed through the bus.
The number of people on the bus only kept growing, alongside the scorching sun.
— How long until we get there? — Íris asks.
— About an hour. — Noah answers.
— AN HOUR?!!!!! — Íris screamed.
The entire bus turned to look at her.
— an hour? — Íris whispered to Noah, embarrassed.
— Obviously, do you think it's easy to find an artifact shop in a city where even the buses don't work? — Noah says.
— You really do love old stuff, I bet they just call it 'artifacts' to charge more. — Íris huffs… — I wish I were rich like you.
RheinkKk…
The bus rattled harder.
— Oh come on, every pothole in this city is a sin. How can there possibly be this many potholes? — Íris complains.
— The government website is a complete disaster… — Noah adds.
The bus finally started to empty out, empty out and empty out…
— Don't tell me this thing is at the edge of the city? Lord, I want to eat… — Íris says as she wiped the sweat from her face.
— We get off at the next stop.
The bus finally reached the next stop, they were the last people to get off. The only thing visible on the wide street was the bus driving away after its parting screech.
The cracked asphalt, the faded shop signs, the heat you could see shimmering in the air. Everything seemed abandoned in this part of the city.
— Where are we even supposed to eat here??? Everything's closed — Íris asked.
— I don't know. — Noah forced a smile.
— I'm starving, and that's all you've got? — Íris said as her stomach made the announcement for her.
A cart with a faded sign at the end of the street caught both their attention. As they walked closer you could smell old frying oil and see a few tables stained and bleached by the sun.
— They sell pastel over there, look — Íris pointed as they walked toward the cart.
— Pretty sketchy, right? Look at that grime on the sign — Noah whispered to Íris.
— Stop being fussy. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Let's go! — Íris answered.
They arrived and sat down at one of the tables with red plastic chairs, and someone with a menu walked over and handed it to them. They placed their orders. They could see their food being made from where they sat.
— I wonder how they wash their hands around here — Noah thought out loud.
— Stop being fussy. — Íris gave him a little pat on the back.
The cart owner approaches to deliver their order.
— Good afternoon! Here's your order. — The owner says as he sets the pastéis on the table.
— Are you two from around here? I've never seen you before. — He asks.
— Oh no, we're from the other side of the city. — Noah answers.
— This boy came from the other side of the city to spend money at an artifact shop… — Íris says and then takes a bite of her pastel.
— Ah, that shop? But isn't the stuff there fake? — the owner asks with a laugh and returns to his cart.
— I said the same thing, but he actually believes in that stuff — Íris answers — I think he's just rich enough to throw money away on it.
— Oh, let me believe. I love old things, they have a unique aesthetic. — Noah says, sheepish.
— Let's go, I'm dying to see what this shop looks like. — Noah rushes Íris.
— Let me finish eating first, I'm not as fast as you. — Íris rushes herself.
They finally finished their meal and headed toward the artifact shop.
— We still have to WALK?!! — Íris screamed.