A great and crazy story
Introduction
I could not believe what was happening, it was first a fortuitous and even laughing, I walked down the street as always in the direction of my work, when the breeze whispered my ear, yes, please do not laugh, it happened. The breeze told me "stop", as an act reflected immediately I looked at the sides because I thought it was a passerby, but I was alone on the sidewalk. Not seeing anyone in some way scared my do and when I realized the ridiculous of my situation I kept walking, the whisper did not return.
Developing
I must clarify at this point that I do not hear voices in my head, that I do not talk to God and that I am not crazy. I am only a tormented man who has played bad passes. Yes, the breeze, is the breeze, because it is the only one that whispers to me by the ear, now I am sure that that first time it was only a way of testing. He kept talking to me on other occasions and I already took it as a kind of gift or faculty, I remember that once, I walked carefree on the way home when when blowing a sudden ventarrón he told me: "Run" and this time, already accustomed to these messages I started running like a alienated and suddenly.
One of the vehicles that was parked very close to where I was, exploded. If not having run, it would not simply exist, I would have died with the explosion. I tell you all this because somehow I considered the wind protected, I felt a special being and of course, if at first I did not want to talk to anyone, at this point, because I no longer needed it, or at least I believed that. From that episode I started paying attention to him blindly, that I was, today I admit and especially after the terrace happened. I was lying on my balcony enjoying a beautiful sunset, the fresh breeze hit my face and told me beautiful things.
conclusion
My good mood increased when he suddenly told me "Low". I left my apartment, took the elevator and arrived on the ground. It is important for me to create me, although perhaps I do not do it now, but my steps were guided, every street crossed, every cross corner was systematically dictated to me and I swear them for the most sacred that I do not know how or when I arrived just front To my friend’s house the psychologist and that same breeze, the one who had become my friend, faithful companion and protective told me: “Mátala!".
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