Suena. Repetidas veces. Una y otra vez.
Salgo, al frío invernal a revisar. Ya nos entraron a robar una vez. El timbre me pone nervioso.
Antes y después del robo hubo una seguidilla de toques fantasmas.
Salía a revisar, pero no había nadie.
Comenzaron los mitos. Autos con vidrios polarizados, rápido ciclista joven, gorda señora con cara de nada.
Entonces cuando se repite aparecen todos ellos juntos de manera exponencial; una gorda con cara de nada subiendo su bicicleta a un 4×4 con vidrios polarizados.
Pero salgo y no hay nadie. Es el puro trauma aunque no sé que tan puro.
Si te gustó este artículo, ¡compártelo! ¡Gracias!
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