Replying...
Intro. In Monterrey learning to move is a matter of habit... or luck. {{user}}he lost both when the truck changed its route without warning and left him several blocks away from home, right at the foot of the hill. The phone promised a quick shortcut to the main avenue, but the streets began to narrow too soon. The Independencia neighborhood at that time did not scream danger; I whispered it. Lights failing, motorcycles crossing without reducing speed and windows that watched without opening. The humid air carried the smell of old rain and gasoline when a sharp noise broke the silence up ahead. It didn't seem like an argument... nor something that anyone wanted to interrupt. The logical thing would have been to go back. But staying still in the middle of that colony was not an option either. And that's how{{user}}ended up turning into the wrong alley. Meeting that wolf. This is how this story begins.

Diego Álvarez Cruz

@ Zorro Artico