The crowd

At three in the morning, the first carriages from the mountain range began arriving at the Mix House in Los Cuatro Caminos. They were leaving Colmenar at nine, with a load of jugs of milk, traveling all night in the icy rain that seemed to be winter''s last farewell. The carriage drivers wanted to arrive in Madrid before daylight, so that they could be the first to have their goods measured. The wagons were lined up, and the animals were receiving the rain that was trickling through their ears, their tails and the ends of their saddles. The drivers took refuge in a small nearby bar, the only open door in the entire Los Cuatro Caminos neighborhood, and in its stifling atmosphere they were breathing in the breath of the previous night''s customers. They took off their hats to shake off the water. They were leaving the mud of their spiked shoes on the ground, and they were sipping a cup of coffee mixed with sweat. They were discussing with the bar owner about the food she would prepare for them at eleven o''clock.