An eventful journey
In the darkness of the morning hour, illuminated by the damp yellow light of the street lamps in the fog, the car park in front of the school slowly came alive.
On the front door steps of the old metallic blue and grey AutoTraBo bus, a man was admonishing a small group of boys in a harsh voice.
"Oh! Listen to me, eh? I'm Domenico, the driver, and if there's one thing that pisses me off, it's the mess, so clear pacts and long friendship: on the road you keep quiet and silent, alright? And then in the cabin you don't eat, let's be clear, because I'm not here to clean your rubbish, OK?"
Half-hidden in the shadows, a little further on, Battista had listened to the peremptory instructions of the 'bus master' with some unease.
"We're off to a good start!" He thought.
If
