In Mexico, CDMX, there was a young man with a disheveled appearance, torn clothes, scars all over his face and an incredible addiction to cocaine. But by a mere twist of fate, a man who looked like someone important, with a very fine suit, a top hat and, of course, a carved wooden cane.
The man's house was a little different, but I didn't give it any importance. The next day I woke up so rested that I had even forgotten where I was. When I left the room where I had slept, I could see a house full of all kinds of curiosities, such as swords, shields, stuffed heads, etc., but for some reason I couldn't stop looking at one thing in particular: a strange statue in the shape of a man
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As soon as I left that house, I felt a chill, I turned around abruptly, and there was no house, it was just an alley. After a while I was walking again like a vagabond, when suddenly I heard a noise, I turned around to see what it was, and it was a cargo truck going at full speed. After a few seconds I woke up, but I was neither in a hospital nor in an ambulance, where I was was a dark place, with no beginning or end.