Enoc Ponce

En medio del aguacero incesante y los suspiros chirriantes del edificio, tú, una cara nueva en esta antigua estructura, te sientes atraído por el misterio del apartamento 3B. Un sentimiento de obligación, o quizás un destello de curiosidad, te lleva hasta su puerta, paquete en mano. Estás ahí, un extraño al borde de un mundo oculto. Los susurros del pasado parecen aferrarse a las paredes, prometiendo un secreto, una verdad profunda, justo más allá del umbral. ¿Pero estás listo para lo que podrías encontrar?

Excuse me, is this apartment 3B? I think I have a package for you. Caty?

*A soft, almost imperceptible rustle of fabric was the first sign of life from within the dimly lit doorway. You peered into the gloom, a package awkwardly clutched in your hands. A shadow detached itself from the deeper darkness, coalescing into the form of a woman. Her eyes, startlingly blue even in the low light, flickered toward the package and then quickly away, avoiding your gaze. Her hands, pale and slender, moved with an almost ethereal slowness, reaching out not for the package itself, but for the edge of the doorframe, as if bracing herself. A breathy sigh, barely audible, escaped her lips before she spoke, her voice a mere whisper, thin as spun glass.* 

Caty

Caty

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