Firs pages of this novel.

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(First pages)
In the Misty City of Captive
Dolls
Miguel Ángel Guerrero Ramos

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Dedicatedto the magic of flowers, the breezes, the swallowsand springs.

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…I know there is beauty in the forest lighted
and magical woman.
Juan Carlos Mestre, La tumba de Keats
Among
life is beautiful.
And worse:
fascinating.
Olga Malaver, Existencias

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Synopses:
This is a story profoundly linked to affection and to the recollections of its main character's
youth and underscoring, as a result, a boy and his two companions in a mystical mysterious
city bursting with undisclosed secrets, where they meet and fall in love with several women
of remarkable beauty and unexpected uniqueness, who gradually fade out without a trace.
The tale appears to spread out, consequently, from a most intense passionate outbreak or
from the hastiest strangest shudder of tenderness. It is also, it has to be said, a story
surrounded all the way through by certain baffling aura, a thorough frenzy of eroticism and
the setting of an immaculate invincible terror. An overcast account, just like the unstrained
scenery where the outstandingly unusual occurrences take place, and where sundry
beautiful girls and inhibitions vanish and an assortment of diverse ambiguities flourish and
become increasingly as peculiar as the most outlandish of locations for life itself to be
situated.

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In the misty city of captive dolls
ZERO
Strange as it may seem, those three women are far more mysterious and hermetic than the
puzzling and semi-illusory city where they live. Nobody knows, by the way, if one day they
were about to drown in a sea made with butterfly tears, or who knows if in those mystical
secret life’s babblings that take shelter in the flowers of winter. The only thing that’s known
about them, or at least all I can add about the limited knowledge you have about them, my
dear and highly revered friend, is that they profoundly, intensely and vigorously love the
outstanding exquisite idea of fondling. Indeed! How wouldn’t those three women cherish
the idea of stroking more than anything else in this world, if they believe them to be like a
truly unique dance which is performed around a most passionate furnace? They also love
and are outright fascinated by the idea of dance, which portrays life itself in their eyes,
being able to speak with a tongue which can raze the forbidden fruits from heaven and
which could well get to the point of talking with a fiery hallucinated tongue capable of
piercing life’s very own glance.

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You know what? After thoroughly thinking about it, I’ve decided to help you putting up
with the grime coming off from epileptic nostalgic cogs of this story. I’ll assist you with the
incongruously crackling flames spawning the interstices of everything you and your two
friends went through in that strange mysterious city you’ll never forget. I’ll lend you a
hand, starting right now, in supporting the weight of a roving song of luxury and the
perfume of each and every one of the reverberations of delusion and the echo of the various
voices of a perpetually unconsummated oblivion. At the moment, however, my way of
aiding is limited to telling you to be strong. No, don’t give any space to any kind of
nostalgia or destructive sadness. You ought not to let your soul be smouldered by its own
fire. Keep tears from a star or a coldly deferred moon from leaving you with nothing to live
for.
It is quite certain, on the other hand, that in the upcoming lines you’ll present the story in
your own way (in fact, that’s something I could swear to), so before that, I’ll step in and
submit my perspective as the tale of a relentless flux of temptations, as the chronicle of
your soul and that of your friends, an unconventional city and five beautiful unique women
slightly impregnated of evanescence.

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I
The red sunset was infinite and infinite and promising was life itself. The hip-hop festival,
by the way, had begun over three or four hours earlier when my friend Julian and I arrived.
He'd decided, incidentally, to join me in order to reminisce about old school times in which
both he and I were formidable Emcees although, to be honest, neither of us knew that term
in those times and simply went by "rappers‟. Turning up at the event, my friend Julian
looked quite enthused with the idea of reviving the way in which, during our adolescence,
both of us focused on such jagged rap pulses which so strongly evoke (to me, at least) a
magical unstoppable beat of African drums. Yes, a very unique rhythm. A rhythm of life
and dizzying essences of expressive souls. Those teenage exploits of our school days were,
nevertheless, some ten years ago, and at the present time my friend Julian's clearly not so
much into hip-hop anymore, or at least not to the extent he claims as he, indeed, does argue
that hip-hop's still an essential part of him. Myself, I think he says that in order not to lose
face before me, since in our school years, both he and I used to say something along the
lines of no matter how much time passed, we'd always love hip-hop more than anything
else in life, even far more than the uncertain complex scents of young love. If I currently
state my friend Julian's no longer into hip-hop (at least not as much as he says he is), it's
because as soon as we'd arrived to the festival he immediately focused his attention towards
a gorgeous girl who happened to have turned up to it, and right there and then he forgot his

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company and approached her. He approached her with an intense magic of passion. With an
intense magic of youthful desire.
The city, meanwhile, was an unknown shadow that guarded unsuspected eternities and
sensual libations.
People who were enjoying the music at the place, which was a central urban venue, kept
their arms up and moved them sideways to the beat of whichever song was being played. I
suddenly turned around to check on Julian and saw him passionately kissing the girl he'd
just met. I also felt a strange essence of mystery in the place, something strange, something
erotic, something lividly suggestive, but also turbid, something unknown, but decided not
to pay attention and I continued focused in Julian and in that beautiful girl. A girl really
beautiful. A girl with look of sweet dream.
In fact, I was a bit resentful at first since the looks of that girl were really stunning, enough
for me to have given everything by a girl like that in a different situation. If I'm sure of
something now is that, hadn't I attended the hip-hop festival with Julian, I would've been
the one talking to her. I'm adamant of that, although what I wouldn't be able to tell is how
far I'd have gone with her. Oh, and I admit I was jealous because as soon as I arrived to the
City of the Crescent Mist (just as my friends and I have decided to name this hazy and

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hermetic city), my friend Julian hasn't stopped talking about another girl, more precisely
some Amalia, the love of his life according to him, the woman who's made him spread the
enthusiastic wings of passion and for whom he'd be able to climb over the roughest steepest
mountains of destiny. “And what does she do' was the first thing I asked Julian when he
mentioned that Amalia for the eleventh time. "She's a woman of the easy life", he said, just
like that, nonchalantly. Not even our prude friend Paul, who happened to be there, dared
say anything at the moment. A strange and unprecedented desire within the city, by the
way, was still watching all as a dark and mystical shadow. A grim shadow.
Paul, I must say, is the third and last member to mention of our group of friends. For those
moments of party hip-hopera, made already almost ten years nor Julian, neither Paul nor I
saw us. But it turns out that life sometimes weaves a very strange coincidences. Sometimes
life has essentialities and polyphonies very misterius and by a twist of fate that I can't
understand and that I will can't understand ever, and although neither Julian nor Paul you
see anything strange, recently us was granted a scholarship to them and to me for make any
course of university specialization that we would like to in the City of the Crescent Mist,
just as us three had decided to name this hazy and strange city. This mysterious city whose
environment seems to seek something beyond of senses. Beyond of infinite.
Us we found out that I had won us a scholarship, because got us a email to each one of us
with a notification with the notice. I can imagine that when Paul and Julian saw the

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notification, that flashy and strange notice of life that crossed the quintessence of mystery
and the quintessence of life, that luminous warning of fate that was the perfect
consubstantiation of the mysteries that flow through the impalpable and smooth surfaces of
chaotic, they remained very impressed at read the name of the three beneficiaries of that
illustrious academic gifts. A gift from heaven or who knows if of some dark and gloomy
hell cave. A scholarship from which no one has yet managed to explain of where it came
out and why we were chosen precisely us three. Either way, a scholarship is a scholarship,
and opportunities are opportunities. For that reason, that same night of mystical
transhumance my two friends and I we got in touch after almost ten years of not doing so.
The scholarship, that was one hundred per cent of the cost of tuition in any university
specialization offered by the prestigious university of the City of the Crescent Mist,
included accommodation, food and a small sum of monthly money. Although we not must
forget that the fibers of any moon are a essence very strange between the passages of soul
and the passages of future, and we must say, therefore, that scholarship put a condition
quite explicit and emphatic. A condition that would change us life. and the most sinuous
sense of our inner passions. It was the condition that Julian, Paul, and I, of course, if we
decided to accept that scholarship, we would have we to stay in a very specific and concrete
accommodation, a accommodation contained in the notice that arrived by the e-mail of each
of us.

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It was not the same accommodation for all three, it was one for each one at different points
of city, in different points of ourselves and in different points of existence.It was not the
same accommodation for all three, it was one for each one at different city points and at
different points of existence. Anyway, us three ended up accepting the offer of the
scholarship, but we never talk directly with some responsible of it, since all the paperwork
was resolved by way of e-mail, and with the help of a scanner when we send signed
documents.
But the scholarship is not important. What matters is the story I'm about to tell, a story
where the mystery runs by infinity of the most strangest and most chaotic form that anyone
can imagine. No, it is not, as you all may well think, the story of three friends that in their
adolescence times they sang rap, and after a few more years they meet again for relive the
past. This is the story of some women that Julian, Paul and I, we met in the hermetic and
mysterious City of the Crescent Mist. A story of absolute passion and of a strange cluster of
events in that us three we were involved because of those women of sweet and eternal
seduction. Yes, because of those women. Beautiful girls so mysterious as attractives, and
that one day disappeared from the face of the earth and of the strangest form we can
imagining. Some women of which I will speak more accurately in due course. For now,
readers must to be conform with the abstract explanation of that this is the story of an erotic
and delicious poison, a poison of highly coveted fragrance and essentially furtive, that one
day, as if by magic, ceased of frequenting the darkest alleys of life.

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The City of the Crescent Mist (just as your friends and you have decided to name that hazy
and hermetic city), is a very strange and curious city of darkness, my dear and esteemed
Javier, thus, if you want to tell the story of everything you've seen in that mysterious place
of life, you need to tell that story it from the point of view of you three. In this you have to
do what I say, dear Javier, because the story that you're about to tell, is not a story that you
can explain in detail if you take the women you've known in that city as the reference
point. By the way, I want you to know something, something that you should not forget: I
want that you to know that the accommodations that were granted in due course both to
your two friends as yourself in this city, are not part of a matter incidental or a random
pointless. Believe me, although sometimes everything is so disconcerting, in this story
everything has its reason for being over the essences of the unknown.

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ll
For to tell this story that I want to make registered among the meanings of life and in these
simple lines, the first case to which I shall refer, because I feel that of that form suggest me
the most intense vehemences of past, is my own history. Yes, that's that suggest me a part
any within of me, a sweet and supreme part very similar to the singular night of a lustful
and beautiful skin, but full of enigmatic and extremes desires, desires capable of navigating
over the quiet adventure of a infinite caress. So I'll start this story with my own case in the
ever-mysterious and mystical City of the Crescent Mist. And for that, to refer to that case in
this story of inescapable and absolute kiss that play in the softest structure of this exist, the
first thing I will say is this: When I decided to accept the strange and curious scholarship I
won no Somehow, I never imagined I would have to go live with three beautiful young
women, along with three beautiful examples of a temptation beyond the boundaries of this
world. I did not suspect a thing until I got to the address in the City of the Crescent Mist,
that is, until I arrived at the entrance of a silky and very scented destination. Clear, when
arriving there, that is, when arriving to that luxurious stay that had been reserved for me,
because really it was very luxurious, I took the key that had reached me two days ago by
the postal mail to open the door of my new temporary apartment. I wanted to accommodate
me in that place as fast as possible, accommodate me in as soon as possible, therefore,
because to this, I not knocked on the door before opening as it should. I did not because I

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did not think that anyone lived there. However, my surprise and what a surprise, or rather
my dismay, it was absolute. A surprise as big as all the seas that are in the soul of mystery.
Sure, the essence of passion is a silk very soft and very unknown, as unknown as the soul,
and after that I opened the door and entered with all the silence of my being in that place, I
discovered three beautiful and young women in a hot tub installed in the center of the living
room of that apartment. Seeing me the three girls smiled and greeted me with a friendly
"Hi, how are you?". I also decided then to smile and then answered them with an equally
friendly "Fine, girls, thanks. I imagine that you three are students with scholarship or
something like that right?".
"No, you're wrong," answered one of beautiful girls. "We are the owners of this apartment
and I can imagine that you are Javier, isn't it?"
"Yes, I am Javier. A great pleasure, ladies".
"Similarly" said another of those beautiful girls. "It's a treat for us to have you as a guest
here at home while you finish your studies, my dear boy."

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Having said that, that last girl that spoke introduced herself as Rebecca. She had short hair
and was redhead, she had, furthermore, an intense spark of desire within her skin and a very
light unsuspected cloud that made her gravitate sensually. Then, another girl was presented
like Marian, she had dark hair and very long, and a very cute mole on the middle of his left
cheek. Finally was presented Xiomara, she had blond hair and a little below the shoulders.
This latter, incidentally, had a mystery of infinite lust and a dizzying and passionate astral
alienation that revolved around his being her, around her own womanhood.
After that those girls will be presented, they three explained to me very quickly that the
University of the Crescent Mist (just as my friends and I call it), was paying them a large
sum of money by having me as a guest. For that reason, among many others, they urged me
to that me feel at home.
And so, taking advantage the trust, and slightly hypnotized by a mystical essence of female,
I asked the owners of the house or apartment, or whatever, because what really matters is
that it was very luxurious and cozy, some two or three things. I asked them who else lived
there and they answered me than anyone else. I asked if they were sisters or something
similar, and after of to laugh happy and coquettishly for a few seconds I was told that no,
they were only friends. Finally I asked them why they were dared to take a bath in such a
spectacular jacuzzi without putting a program in plasma televisions fifty inches that was in

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one of the walls of the room, or a bit of music even to entertain the mood a little. They then
they asked me what kind of music I listened to, and I told them that a long time ago I had
neglected music. But, they insisted on knowing what music I listened with to the irrefutable
argument that music is an essential part of being human, and always, no matter how or
where there is a tune playing over there, in the depths of existence human, this limited and
infinite existence. So I ended up telling them to them three that in my youth I didn't hear
anything that was not rap. To them it seemed interesting and soon one of those girls, more
accurately Marian said I was going to put some music and at that moment got up and left
the jacuzzi. That's when my surprise, or rather my dismay, was much more than absolute,
much more than giant and much more that immense. It was much more than that because
that beautiful girl was totally naked, naked as a passionate and fragant flower of inmense
sensuality, and I had not noticed. I had not realized since, so far, those girls had been within
the jacuzzi, and I had only been able to see them, therefore, from the shoulders up. But hey,
I said that Marian had risen to go to put on some music, totally nude and totally gorgeous,
yes, gorgeous as a moon of life, an infinite and very flirty moon of life. She placed one of
the songs from Doctor Dre, definitely a good choice. That's when Xiomara, with the excuse
that she was thirsty, came out also of the jacuzzi, totally naked, like Marian. Came out of
the jacuzzi as evoking an intense and glowing passion verb able to remake the secret and
winding structure of the skin, or as an intense word evoking all the nights that have fallen
over the mistery. Then she, the beautiful Xiomara, told me the following:

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"What is it, boy? Do not panic so much. Don't tell me you've never known before today,
how is a naked woman? Moreover, if you want, for you to relax a little, you can either enter
the jacuzzi with the girls."
"Thank you very much, it's just that barely I just arrived and..."
"No problem, my dear boy."
"Well, I don't say that I like not, but I better I will unpack my bags and it leave for another
occasion," I said, with an irreducible and confused blend of shyness and embarrassment in
my whole being.
"Well, anyway, to enjoy this spectacular jacuzzi you have the next few years you're here
with us. That, while you finish your graduate studies. Surely will we pass sensational."

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lll
I want to emphasize that my case is also the case of Rebecca, Marian and Xiomara. All
these girls, by the way, very beautiful and with perfectly soft skin and shapely, and with an
incredible and fantastic sexapil. Well, other than that, Xiomara, for my arrival to the City of
the Crescent Mist, had an eyes strangely bright, an eyes of waning moon, just as I decided
to call them. The breasts of Marian, it is worth noting, were incredibly big and with a
hypnotic figure of passion, and Rebecca, like her two friends, had it all incredibly
beautiful, mostly the same feminine essence of her being. However, I know that to find
three naked women in a tub or jacuzzi, isn't something that happens every day, because of
this, I thought at the time, and I still think even, that there was something fishy. My life
could be in serious danger and perhaps the darkest paths of breeze knew that. Nevertheless
the fact that all my friends and my family know that I was all by there, reassured me a
little. Even so, locked in the room I was assigned my nude and beautiful hostesses, I
decided to call Paul and Julian to tell them what I had found exactly at the apartment in
which I was going to live a good couple of years. And yes, I told them, but they didn't
believe me not a single word. I tried to make them see by all means and with all the
rhetorical formulas that occurred to me improvise, that what I said was one hundred percent
true. But just do not they believed me and I ended up telling them that Yes, it was all an
exaggeration that I invented. And it was during those two calls I made to my two friends,
Paul and Julian, when I learned that they, unlike me, had come to the City of the Crescent

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Mist the previous day, and I was told that both had recently fallen in the absolute seduction
of love.
Amalia, that was the name of the woman that she fell in love with Julian. And Angie, of
course, was the name of the woman that she fell in love with Paul. Because, tells a strange
breeze, those two girls were also very much in love.
The next day of those calls, I found with Paul for a lunch at a nice restaurant of the City of
the Crescent Mist. Everything was so strange as always in that city. The breezes were
blowing with mystery, even to such a common fact as it is a lunch. But even with the
mystery of breezes, I focused on the conversation I had with Paul. Of course, ten years ago
we didn't see us, and thus chatting, I realized that he was no longer interested in the Hip-
hop. He even told me that was only interested in astronomy, and of course, in the beautiful
Angie. A girl soft skin and infinite tenderness. The girl who occupied all his intensities and
the secret heart palpitations of a soul who dreams with the universe and love. She, the
mistress of his most intimate fantasies.
Sure, for all that I have said so far, we can imagine that when the beautiful Angie
disappeared, Paul was plunged into a deep and unspeakable anguish, a anguish of intense
and melancholic contours that made him scrunch the soul of pain. But let's go by parts.

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That day in which Paul and I found ourselves after nearly ten years, for lunch in a
restaurant, Julian, who was also to meet with us, arrived late, as was his custom in our
times of school. Then, the first thing that Julian did when saw us, was claim us for making
that meeting of old friends in a sober and boring restaurant and not in a bar near several
beautiful and happy girls with essence of spring and with look of passion. Anyway, Julian
sat with us at the restaurant and told us with a twinkle in his eyes, that he was deeply in
love with a girl, a girl of mystic sensuality, like the beautiful Angie, or any of my three
lovely and bewildering hostesses of the City of the Crescent Mist. While, he did not give
many details about that girl in those moments and just simply said it was very beautiful.
Anyway, Paul and me we found a few days later out that Julian was in love with a
prostitute of the city. A prostitute with a magical and passionate air of life, if a little sinister,
mysterious and gloomy; a air which at all times and in all insignificant and fleeting remnant
of runaway and unusual sigh, gave her to this beautiful and singular girl the appearance of
being about to die and then be reborn with the infinite foam of an ocean in love with a
lustful moon. An uncertain and mysterious reborn whose sole purpose was to die again
under the relentless chaos of body delivery.
Three weeks after my arrival in the City of the Crescent Mist, the beautiful Angie, who was
the woman by the that Paul would be able to give up his life, was one more of my good
friends. We three went out even on several occasions to malls and video games and we

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shared smiles and ice cream flavors with a simple and amazing joy. However, I must say
that the story of Paul with the beautiful Angie, is a story that I should not count in detail
yet. If we can remember, I said I would tell the mysterious story of what happened to us to
Paul, Julian and me during our stay in the City of the Crescent Mist. And if we can
remember, I said that this story would begin with my case, since extremely mysterious and
strangers events in which my two friends and me found ourselves wrapped, it was not, after
all, exactly the same, although they have some that another similarity.
Well, my case is concerned exclusively to my three beautiful and lusty hostesses, to a secret
that they keep with some suspicion, to the form in which mystic ladies and I became lovers,
and to their mysterious and strange disappearance. While the story of my friends Paul and
Julian have to do mainly with the mysterious disappearance of the beautiful Angie and the
beautiful prostitute who fell in love Julian from his first day in the City of the Crescent
Mist. A city with a strange vehemence of amber and an appetite of passion linked to the
caresses of the unknown.
Guess what, dear Javier?, I know perfectly that exact part of the universe that reaches to
cover your imagination. Similarly, let me tell you, I know every nook and cranny of this

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story you want to tell. Don't ask me who I am, because it would only respond that I am who
poured the sparkling wine of the adulterers on your body. Let me warn you. Yes, let me
warn you that you can not so easily face the seductive evanescence of the story that you
want to tell. That's why I want to advise you do not rush with your story, if you do so, you
yourself will discover many secrets that I'll help you decipher. Believe me what I say, not
for nothing am I the only guide that you can find in a maze of sheer uncertainty. In the
labyrinth of the vaporous and uncertainty. In this maze that is life. A life wrapped in forms
of delicious woman and in cuddling in the hot and appetizing sex of eternity.

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IV
The case of my friend Paul is quite complex and worrying, since he has suffered greatly
with the disappearance of Angie. It's been almost two months since our arrival to the City
of the Crescent Mist. It is not long, but it seems that for Paul there has been nothing prior to
that icy and cloudy day in which he breathed for the first time in your soul the air of this
strange city, of this strange city where even today, despite all intensities of the erotic and
tragedy, he thinks pursue his master's degree in space physics and astronomy.
One morning, shortly after I had arrived at the City of the Crescent Mist, I visited him in
his apartment, that is, to the apartment which was granted him temporarily by the
scholarship, and I found him counting one by one the minutes of heaven, or at least that
was what Paul said me who was doing. That's what he told me, yes, as to not say something
as trivial as that was counting stars or the minutes on his own loneliness.
Now well, I know I should be a little more specific, and I know very well to say that
someone like my friend Paul is counting the minutes of his own loneliness, or counting
stars, or counting even the deliriums of silence, not something that gives enough
information about this someone or about the events that hypothetical person has lived for
the past few days. Moreover, if there is something I accept in this life is that I am somewhat
abstract, or rather, very abstract, and even more when I tell a story. Anyway, what I found

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really doing to my dear friend Paul that morning when I visited him, it was this: noting
carefully by a fine and elegant telescope the firmament (or at least that's what I imagine,
because what else could be watching him?).
By the way, I must say, as a brief parenthesis that for my friend Paul, anything having to do
with the firmament, the outer space, the stars of infinite and all objects which, in one form
or another, studied the science of astronomy, always has awakened in him a fascination of
unsuspected limits. Every day, even, when the sunset, with its shades of red, or oranges, or
purples, or even greens, falls and precipitated in all the looks they wish to inspect the sky,
and the entire universe awakens revealing the nuances of life, my friend Paul Ruiz is
engaged to look through a powerful telescope the mystical and gentle brightness of stars in
the cosmos. A task which still nowadays he dedicates himself entirely, with the slight
exception that lately he also has dedicated itself to feel the abysmal absence of his beloved
Angie, is one of the mysterious women who have disappeared in the City of the Crescent
Mist.
"Tell me Javier," Paul asked me of a moment's notice when I went to visit him this morning
that I've mentioned lines back. “Why Angie had to disappear from one moment to another,
just when everything was going so well! Why she decided to take a train that cold and rainy
morning for, apparently, never return! Why!? Why!? Why, Javier!? Why she decided to
call me for that I could see how she left!? I don't get it! I don't understand, Javier! I swear
you that I don't understand it!...”

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My friend Paul was much more destroyed than it at a first moment I thought by the
mysterious disappearance of the pretty and tender Angie. But, what dark and strange reason
was hiding behind the fact that she, the beautiful and cheerful Angie decided to disappear
and leave him all his things, including her own personal diary, to her boyfriend, namely,
Paul? And, for what reason she decided to leave the city and my life fair and precisely in a
train, a means so little used by people of City of the Crescent Mist?
Whatever the answer to each of those questions, the only certainty is that in the memory of
my friend will always be all traces of the sweet light that the cute Angie Daniela Durán
emitted by her skin of mystic girl. But this certainty, instead of impregnate and insufflate
some of life to my friend, is something that worries him more. Not for nothing, in the
memory of him will always remain the subtle presence of the beautiful and cheerful Angie
like a breeze in a vacuum just sensed, or like a small lint which is dragged towards some
distant boundary of this universe of unknown essences.
Furthermore, in possession of my friend Paul not only have remained those insubstantial
and distant strands of humanity and love for his beautiful girlfriend (the only girlfriend who
I came to know him now that I think about it a little), also remain, in his power, and under
his own responsibility, of course, the apartment and all that she had. All things that once
belonged to the cute Angie and which now seem to belong to Paul. More specifically, a
bed, a pile of books on biology, several cosmetic implements, a television, a laptop
computer, a refrigerator-white, various cooking implements, a small and cuddly kitten
named Sally that Angie always used to embrace much, and until all clothing that was in her

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apartment. Yes, as I have said, everything that had the cute Angie remains now with Paul,
except the clothes that she wore that sad and memorable day when he decided to leave.
Fortunately, the small kitten Sally who was of Angie, had already taken him much affection
to Paul, because he used to visit his girlfriend very often (with "very often," by the way, I
want to say, that he was always in the apartment of her, since both were neighbors and as
couple they were very sweets). As a result, the small and cuddly kitten did not protest when
Paul decided to take her to her apartment. And so, shortly after that the beautiful Angie
went away and when already Paul was noticed that she didn't return and that she doesn't
want to even communicate with him, and when already the small kitten Sally was
ensconced at home, Paul he got in the vain task of finding a family member of Angie. Yes,
in the vain and demanding task of inquiring into the perfumes of someone else's life, in a
dissolute existence, in a mirage without defined horizon. First, he decided to look into her
mobile phone and dialed all the numbers that Angie had stored there, but nothing. None of
those numbers stored in that device was of a family member of Angie. All those numbers
were of friends who failed to give any concrete information. Apparently, Angie Daniela
Duran didn't have any family, this, clear, seemed him to Paul quite simply ridiculous, yes,
ridiculous, outrageous and preposterous. But he had to do something about it. Very surely,
Paul thought one morning while drinking a steaming cup of coffee, in the world should
exist someone else besides him, a single person at least, who he would like to know about
the fate of the beautiful and cheerful Angie. He felt in a duty to investigate, not for nothing,
that girl has been, even to this day, the woman he has most loved in his life.

28. 28
V
I want to make it clear that I would love to accompany my friend Paul Ruíz all the time that
may be necessary, for not leave it only, of course, in this hard setback of fate whereby these
days that run he is going through. But it happens that I don't have much mind to deal with
problems of anyone these days so curious and that have the lightness of gentle ecstasy of a
soap bubble. What happens is that today I am a victim of all these passionate outbursts of
the soul who adhere to our skin whenever we sat in the room of the most warm and sensual
desires. Yes, very apparently, sometimes the soul longs with intensity an unbridled and
unlimited passion and longs the sweet Kiss of lust. It all started that first day I came to the
City of the Crescent Mist and I found, in the apartment that I was given to live, three
beautiful, seductive and young women bathing fully naked in a jacuzzi. But this does not
stop there. This, in fact, was just the beginning of everything. After six days of my arrival
in this city of sunsets with hues of oranges, reds, purples and sometimes even green, the
beautiful Rebecca went into the bathroom where I was showering me totally naked, and
without saying anything, she started to kissing me passionately and I, without thinking, I
followed her the game. She caressed my skin with amazing dexterity. She also had a
preference for stroking my erect member, which made me think of her, at the beginning,
like a sick of sex or something. But then I decided it was best to forget some of my more
traditional ideas, and some minor prejudices, and leave she to do it what dictated her the

29. 29
pulses of the instinct. To the following day, I learned of the synergistic nymphomania of
hallucinatory pulsion who had also taken place in the young bodies of Xiomara and
Mariana and on the most sensual liturgies of a libidinous quintessence. The first of those
two beautiful and lascivious girls that I have mentioned, that is, Marian, dared to get in my
bed during a night of infinite dew. She arrived as the bride of the forbidden and totally
naked, and we made love as if we had done it dozens of times. The second girl, this is,
Xiomara, was a good day for university where I was studying, with her eyes of waning
moon and her caresses of oneiric suspension, and in one of my free hours we made love in
the first bath for men that we find. The day after this intense event, those three women of
overflowing sensuality that are my hosts and I, we immerse ourselves in the jacuzzi of
apartment of them totally naked, and that's when these girls asked me which of them did
better, in previous days, the supreme act of love, and they requested me that please explain
my answer in great details. Sure, that, although it may not seem, it was a really difficult
time for me. I didn't know what to say. But those girls insisted much. They were on the
verge of angry when I decided to tell them that for me, so far, the best girl in passion was
Rebecca, for her skillful hands. Hands very good for become verbs of magic and eroticism
destined to inquire the morphology of a sinuous and energetic skin. At that time, the anger
that was beginning to sketch the face of the three ebbed completely. Then, Marian and
Xiomara, with a huge smile on their faces, they promised me that they would improve and
they would try to outdo Rebecca, whatever happened.
To my two weeks of my arriving in the City of the Crescent Mist, I did not want to know
most about sex or passion. Yes, after I felt in the most astral and hot paradise for about six
or seven days, and after drinking the most exquisite elixirs of eternal passion, I had had

30. 30
enough. So I decided to go spend a few days at the apartment of my friend Julian. Exactly
three days, that it was the maximum time I could stay outside the apartment of those three
beautiful nymphomaniacs, without suffering a terrible consequence.