Blanco
- Reads 22
- Votes 1
- Parts 4
A veces hay historias que no se pueden olvidar, se quedan como una mancha en el perfecto color blanco de una filipina.
- Buenas tardes
Saludo él con su impecable forma de caminar, llevaba su maleta en la mano y su suéter colgando de ella. Él ya estaba sentado fuera de la cocina platicando con sus alumnos, su atuendo también era impecable. Lo miro, aquel nerviosismo que sentía cada que lo veía cuando ambos estudiaban juntos volvía a renacer.
- Buenas tardes
Respondió él, entonces sus miradas se encontraron. Ambos habían recordado lo vivido en el pasado.
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