Balloons App Walkthrough

summer.

agosteña afternoon has left the streets deserted. Sun is merciless, completely seizing it. People avoid going out and takes shelter in the artificial fresh from their homes.
With the demise of King Street awake, revive again. Slowly stretches the body, stretch your legs and open the doors.
In town, there seems to be children. The street does not jump for joy, laughter and games. Most households seem canned fancy pockets .., drivers who play alone, screens that show the world with a mouse, stupid boxes that do not get tired of being all day on.

Children who were in those summers that were not afraid of the sun and heat of the pavement. Go to the source water was supposed to a refreshing exercise. Also, when you press the "stalled" because there are fewer people in the late afternoon.

The boy climbed up the street with a water pitcher knew he could not go and play until they bring at least three of those vessels.

The source is a cacophony of laughter, as Antonia, the most vain of the neighbors, had sprawled to the source. The urchins always spilled some water on the floor and in the stones of the street, it was easy to slip. Because they all said Antonia did not rise from the ground. A giggling prevented him back together. Her dress skirts above the waist and legs looked plump hams which hung out to dry. Children do not kept their eyes on this woman, as it showed up pudenda thigh.
his turn came, filled her jar, covered it carefully and threw it over his shoulder. After crossing the square, cast down the street. Now the damn stoned you played a trick on him, as he stepped wrong. Failed to maintain the balance of the pot, breaking it to pieces. With the handle in his hand he complained bitterly, but not enough to mourn, just a few pots made between sobs, while the spilled water was lost between the stones of the street.

"Mom, is the pitcher Quebrao m'a - Managed to articulate between sobs.
- What t'as Jech, my son?
-Na, Mom, but we have no pot to the grandfather.

"It does not matter, and buy another, trying to comfort him well, but his face could not hide his little conviction.

Shortly after returning to mount the street, but now almost dragging buckets of zinc in each hand. Now do not break, but get wet feet with the vagaries of the water.

As a soundtrack perennial discs dedicated radio program, sounded every evening in the white street facades. This song never failed ... "To the prettiest girl in his tita that both want"

still very hot in August people. A few young men are dragging their feet on rubber sandals. Go to the swimming pool and carry on their bare backs towels, also trailing almost to the ground. Another afternoon with the dumbest little friends will drink his cola and chewed nth the same flavor of gum.
speak little words and chewing gum, and complain of having parents as boring as they are, they are not able to release your attachment to the TV or the internet and bring them into concert megachulo, a hundred miles away, gives the group Music will now cool.

The sun came up the front facade. In the kitchen stands a ar oma to freshly brewed coffee. The pastor and his son, acting as a shepherd boy who learns, prepare the bag: A large bread, cheese, a quince pudding and meat wrapped in brown paper. Do not put any fruit, for in the field will find its natural figs pantry. From shoulders also hang their canteens, sling bag and secure it to the knotty stick acebuche they will support and defense in the dark and diffuse long night.
When down the street, the pastor and his son, talk with neighbors and they say goodbye until the next morning. The night with its moon for them, and the sheep in the flock to graze await. Hauled all day under the shade of a small tree, is paralyzed, close together, giving comfort and encouragement to support animal life as such.
When the pastor gives long, the sheep see heaven opened, running in a pack after the "little bird" to his coveted grass.
The lad holding up herding to sticking a bite, his father dis f route to seeing. He is proud that his son inherited his passion livestock, but so is of another son who stayed home tutoring other students. That, perhaps one day be a teacher.
Night falls in the pasture and livestock will not stop giving snacks straight ... the past pray monitor it closely, while a plump moon looks like cheese by between cerros.Se silenced the cowbells and the shepherd boy snuggles with "chapon" father. It has stayed in the shelter of the olive tree that dominates the stubble alone

al. The pastor left a canteen next to the body of the child and goes in pursuit of the herd that has risen again.
A tin rattle over the stones and soil warns that the child has awakened and, following the sound of the bells, taken back in with his father.

The sun rises and shepherds his company back into the fold. Sheep met their fill, chew the food safe from the others.

up the street, in the first houses, may be heard this song ... The black curly girl who sweeps the street, absorbed in her letter, give a start to notice being surprised by the shepherds.