Zenda libros
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Zenda libros Tag

No sé cuándo aprendí a hacer anillos de humo. Lo cierto es que ni siquiera recuerdo cuando fumé el primer pitillo. Sé que empecé pronto, aún con rodillas negras y barro en las manos. Entonces pasábamos tanto tiempo en la calle, que algo teníamos que...

His tiny index finger was moving accurately, plowing through the air of trails that only his eyes were capable of appreciating. Then, those staring at him in silence were unable to figure out. It did not matter that I was in front of a dish...