IV

When it was 5:15 PM, it was raining hard, to make up for the delay. Antú was almost ready, she had had a leisurely "lunch and breakfast". Now she was preparing her wardrobe to receive the clients, who would be arriving soon, for the appointment scheduled months ago. "What will I wear today?" She asked herself playfully and smiling.

The phone rang for 2 seconds before Santiago Thaljieh answered. He had the phone in his hand, it started ringing, he saw Aurora's name on the screen, he answered saying immediately: "Thank you, I was waiting for someone to call me. I didn't want to be here. I'm on my way".

Bernardo Dumont was sitting in his usual chair at the usual time. Only a rumble can shake up the routine. Only such a rumble could interrupt the 3:30 p.m. show. Downstairs he felt an explosion and could feel her floor tremble slightly. The thought "What could have happened? Perhaps a domestic accident" so rational and sensible appeared, mixed, overlapped with the immediate, visceral and uncontrollable fear.

That building of avant-garde architecture, whose idea of community life had been interrupted by a coup d'état. It had gone from housing scholarship students to being inhabited by the military and then sold to the private individuals who were currently charging rent. Bernardo had heard rumors never disproved about military men fearful of the revolution that would bring an end to the dictatorship leaving bombs hidden between the floors of this and other emblematic buildings of the interrupted government.

Hearing the rumble on the floor that divided his dwelling with that of the neighbor below, provoked an indescribable dread. The breath of scenes from another place.

Santiago, the boy who was named after a city swallowed by the sea, walked out in a hurry. After a few minutes, when he reached the bus stop he realized he didn't know the direction he was supposed to go.

Aurora's phone received one last text message from her mother. Aurora saw the name "Imperator" and deleted it without reading it. Then she dialed Momo's number.

Hortensia during her training had written a message for her daughter. During her training, in that space where there is not much I operating, she spoke and wrote, but she did not write, although she signed it.

Even though we didn't understand the language or the graphemes.

Not necessarily that "I" is identified with her name. We call her Hortensia, by convention, to make the story easier. Before we finished, the voice had telephoned a warning to Aurora: "It will rain where it shouldn't."
The message would not be read.

Antú drew a sign on each hand, though he thought it was rude.

Momo Bianchi answered her phone, to hear Aurora's voice ask: 
"What are you doing?"
"I was lamenting how badly designed this city is: it's ugly and purposely segregated, besides not being able to stand the rains. You?"
"I'm escaping from an imposed duty. Trying to find a home, making do with a roof over my head".
"What time am I going?"
"I'm sending you the address. Can you bring something to drink?"
"Sure, Aurie! Leave it to me. I'll bring something that tastes like love".

They were ready to say goodbye, but Momo needed to add something, more:
"Aurie?"
"Yes?"
"I have something to tell you that can't wait for me to see you in person: Did you know that because of their short digestive system and the brutal amounts of bamboo they eat, pandas poop about 40 times a day?"