As a white silk stockings, slipped on that prey buried in the hills. The emerging rays of sun just scattered density. Nepomuceno watching the scenery while riding his bike course Nuevo Necaxa market. The patron, Don Braulio, had said earlier on local open for cleaning. I never really liked to do the cleaning. But work always carries responsibilities outside of which no one could escape. At least that's what your mother always told.
The market was mostly deserted, only a few merchants began to arrive. Nepomuceno down your bike to stand in front of the curtain of metal. Vainly sought the keys in his pocket, he had forgotten at home. But not your home. The house had left Concha. The woman who enjoyed the evening walk in the mantle of her dark skin. Realizing his carelessness, rode back to their transport to go rushing home to his beloved. He could not afford that Don Braulio will raise the voice again, for another small mistake. The first time was his boss scolded him for being ten minutes late, the day after his birthday. The second for doing wrong and give an account of over two dollars to a client. Nepomuk could not tolerate another punishment. Slipping
ably through the narrow streets between the emerging post, I thought only reach Concha before working out. Rode in haste, when he passed through the dam was already fading mist. Only a few feet and come with his love. He walked along the road until you reach the small house located beside a winding road. Dismounting quickly, he dropped the bike from the ground. He was about to knock on the door when he heard another voice, Concha y unknown male inside. The sound of voices paralyzed him dry. A strange shiver ran down her spine down to his skull. He recalled what had been, plucked courage and knocked on the door. The voice of Concha
spit a "Who?" Grumpy. Nepomuceno replied as usual, "I, who else." Softly opened the door to reveal half of her face was inside. Without hiding his amazement, Concha asked
- What are you doing here, I said I was going to work? -
"Yes, but I forgot the keys, you can enjoy myself, I think I left on the desk in the room," said shakily not hide his disappointment. Concha
closed the door to go for the keys. The unknown man's voice was heard from inside, like an echo of death for Nepomuceno. Was desperate, first things work and now this. I could not believe it was as if suddenly the world would have been slapped by turning to him. It opened the door again.
"Here are the keys," said Concha while extending those metal objects.
- Did not you say you were going to work, who are you? - Asked hoarsely
"I'm working, I did not tell you, but it is time for you to know. I'm a whore, and you're interrupting my work hours, and so like you, I too am a responsible person with my day job. So please go, it's getting late you replied as if it were more natural dam in the region.
Nepomuceno took his bike from the ground and sped off unintentionally turn to see.
walked slowly, as if it were able to shape the time at will. Prisa.Llegó was no longer in the store, Don Braulio was already there, looking like a raging bull. Then the sermon began with the usual "is not possible for someone so young be so useless if I was your age, you demonstrate what is to be responsible." Nepomuceno his eyes down, quietly opened the metal door. He realized that being responsible was a whoring.
The market was mostly deserted, only a few merchants began to arrive. Nepomuceno down your bike to stand in front of the curtain of metal. Vainly sought the keys in his pocket, he had forgotten at home. But not your home. The house had left Concha. The woman who enjoyed the evening walk in the mantle of her dark skin. Realizing his carelessness, rode back to their transport to go rushing home to his beloved. He could not afford that Don Braulio will raise the voice again, for another small mistake. The first time was his boss scolded him for being ten minutes late, the day after his birthday. The second for doing wrong and give an account of over two dollars to a client. Nepomuk could not tolerate another punishment. Slipping
ably through the narrow streets between the emerging post, I thought only reach Concha before working out. Rode in haste, when he passed through the dam was already fading mist. Only a few feet and come with his love. He walked along the road until you reach the small house located beside a winding road. Dismounting quickly, he dropped the bike from the ground. He was about to knock on the door when he heard another voice, Concha y unknown male inside. The sound of voices paralyzed him dry. A strange shiver ran down her spine down to his skull. He recalled what had been, plucked courage and knocked on the door. The voice of Concha
spit a "Who?" Grumpy. Nepomuceno replied as usual, "I, who else." Softly opened the door to reveal half of her face was inside. Without hiding his amazement, Concha asked
- What are you doing here, I said I was going to work? -
"Yes, but I forgot the keys, you can enjoy myself, I think I left on the desk in the room," said shakily not hide his disappointment. Concha
closed the door to go for the keys. The unknown man's voice was heard from inside, like an echo of death for Nepomuceno. Was desperate, first things work and now this. I could not believe it was as if suddenly the world would have been slapped by turning to him. It opened the door again.
"Here are the keys," said Concha while extending those metal objects.
- Did not you say you were going to work, who are you? - Asked hoarsely
"I'm working, I did not tell you, but it is time for you to know. I'm a whore, and you're interrupting my work hours, and so like you, I too am a responsible person with my day job. So please go, it's getting late you replied as if it were more natural dam in the region.
Nepomuceno took his bike from the ground and sped off unintentionally turn to see.
walked slowly, as if it were able to shape the time at will. Prisa.Llegó was no longer in the store, Don Braulio was already there, looking like a raging bull. Then the sermon began with the usual "is not possible for someone so young be so useless if I was your age, you demonstrate what is to be responsible." Nepomuceno his eyes down, quietly opened the metal door. He realized that being responsible was a whoring.
Nabor Rachowsky
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