The thin and cold atmosphere of winter came.
A shadow of a man passed on the alley, a black one, rushing on the muddy street of El Fuerte.
It was a businessman.
Shivering at every step he took, coldness siping into his nerves and the tips of his pink scarf.
Clutching hardly its suitcase, like holding his dear one's life.
The snow was falling like a weightless feather, the only sound in the alley came from on his muddy shoes 'plick-plocking' the hard cement.
No soul was around him, which made him more terrified.
Until he heard a small rough voice, a whispery one, someone who is secretly hiding on the street lamps beside the primitive mail box.
He stared, then he came up with a figure of a man.
He froze, unable to react by what he have seen.
Then the figure showed itself,
It was an old man, a filthy beggar.
And it looked scared, It didn't dare to speak.
"Who are you!?" the businessman said,
Then the beggar began walking backwards, looking more terrified than before.
Then the beggar screamed, looking pale as the snow..
"GHOST!! A GHOST"
The businessman was confused, unable to register by what the beggar said.
"Wha--
Then his voice began fading, his suitcase was fading, his scarf that was made by his youngest daughter is fading.
Everything, everything, everything was fading.
Then he became the cold and thin air of winter.
~~||
Whaddaya think?
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