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  • It was blazing hot that afternoon. But it wasn't just the heat, it was that dampness that never leaves the Argentinian capital entirely. Humidity makes the hot air stick to you in a way that can drive you mad.

    The Sun shone through the car's windscreen, its rays scorching my face. I closed my eyes and stuck my head out through the window in a desperate attempt to feel the wind. I remained like that for a few minutes, and then opened my eyes again.

    I looked at the driver beside me. Middle-aged, with a few touches of silver in his light brown hair. He was also suffering under the heat, but he kept on holding the steering wheel, imperturbably. He looked at me for a brief second, and I looked into those calm, soothing eyes that always manage to reassure me. He drives all day - it has recently become part of his job - but he also takes my sister and me when we need a ride. I could never live his life: on the road, under the Sun all day.

    "Dad", I said, "I really admire you"

    He smiled.
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