It Doesn't Wet You

L’HISTOIRE

It's Saturday, August 25th, 2029, six in the evening, at Abando, the main station in Bilbao, in the Basque Country, in the north of Spain. Sarah and Julian left Seville at eight this morning, when it was already thirty-one degrees, and changed trains in Madrid. Outside the station it's eighteen degrees, the sky is grey, and the air is full of a fine rain that doesn't seem to fall so much as float. Nerea is waiting under an umbrella with her mother, who has brought two more umbrellas and a bag of jumpers, just in case. At eleven that night, in the family's flat, Julian is on the sofa under a blanket, and Nerea's father, a man of very few words, comes in with a jumper. This is the conversation you'll be able to say by the end of the lesson.