“You grab the handrail—the bus slows down but doesn’t stop—and jump aboard. Then you shove your way forward, pay the driver the thirty centavos, squeeze yourself in among the passengers already standing in the aisle, hang onto the overhead rail, press your brief case tighter under your left arm, and automatically put your left hand over the back pocket where you keep your billfold.” 

This passaged is an excellent example of Fuentes’s style. Using the second-person point of view makes the narrative feel more personal, as if the author is addressing the reader directly. It also encourages a sense of identification with the protagonist. Additionally, the use of present tense adds a sense of contemporaneity and immediacy, as if the story is happening at the moment of reading. This passage also gives a glimpse of daily life in Mexico City in the 1960s. Public transportation is very affordable but crowded, and there is a danger of pickpockets. Using the bus also suggests that Felipe does not possess an automobile, emphasizing his poverty.

“Up there, everything is the same as it was. The jukeboxes don’t disturb them. The mercury streetlights don’t shine in. The cheap merchandise on sale along the street doesn’t have any effect on that upper level; on the baroque harmony of the carved stones; on the battered stone saints with pigeons clustering on their shoulders; on the latticed balconies, the copper gutters, the sandstone gargoyles; on the greenish curtains that darken the long windows; on that window from which someone draws back when you look at it.” 

This description of Mexico City’s historic downtown represents its colonial past. Remnants of the European presence are still standing, but life has moved on and away, leaving the houses and their legacy as empty shells. The window with green curtains belongs, presumably, to the widow. The curtain’s color echoes the old woman’s eyes and Aura’s clothing. The fact that someone is observing Felipe suggests that his arrival is expected, hinting at a supernatural element.