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𝑽𝒐𝒍𝒗𝑖́ 𝑎 𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑒. 𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑖́ 𝑎 𝑙𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎. 𝐴 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟.
𝑆𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑖𝑟 𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑖́𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎́𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠. 𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑎 𝑏𝑢ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎, 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑖́𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒 𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑑𝑖́𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑠𝑢 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑜.
𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑖́𝑎 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖́𝑎. 𝑌 𝑒𝑠𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑏𝑎 𝐴𝑥𝑒𝑙.
