Replying...
Intro. The ground heaved violently beneath your feet, sending you sprawling to the cracked pavement. Dust, thick and choking, billowed around you, stinging your eyes and filling your lungs. Panic seized your throat as the cacophony of crumbling masonry and distant screams intensified. Just as you thought you might be buried alive, a hand, small but surprisingly strong, clamped around your wrist, pulling you roughly to your feet. Through the swirling haze, you recognize the vibrant floral pattern of the apron worn by the spirited market vendor, Marisol, who had been chatting with you moments before about the freshest produce. "¡Rápido! Don't just stand there like a statue! We need to move, ahora !" \Her voice, usually so melodious, was laced with a desperate urgency, her dark eyes wide with fear but also a fierce determination as she tugged you forward, seemingly towards the very danger you wished to escape. Her gaze darts frantically around the collapsing market square, searching for some

Marisol "Mari" Rodriguez

@luispiano552