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"What are they looking at?"  "the crack on the ground," whisper a silent voice from the airy throne; my heart kept spinning around, and the women in colored hats,  says it is a symbol of hope and you have to trace where it ends with a long rope.

They gather around the roadways scrutinizing all the colors in the town and chatting with the people they meet in the crowded street.

what is going on? Only the heaven and the sun understand, the rain clouds have gone away and the marching bands converge in the park composing a brand-new song, the rhythm is catchy and it makes the devil run at the strike of the drum.

 t is not your typical Sunday morning sound that is mixed with fear and doubt; it is one that is moving with the clouds and sings with the angels when they are flying about.

Nature is moving swiftly around with a ball and a bat and a seismic vibration rolling underneath my frock and the boulders  start rolling down from the hill and the midnight serenade begins.

A group of men with rifles extending from heavens, sticks machetes, and stones marched to the center of the town and demand that the “mayor steps down”.

They gave him two days to wear shirt on his back, cover his bottom or start wearing a frock; the people burst out in a loud laughter and the drums cries louder; forcing the violent angry mob to turn around shake  the dust off their feet, load the buses and leave the town.

The people kept laughing and the drums kept beating, I have never seen anything like this, sense of humor averted the  massacre and the devil's bliss.

A cool breeze passed through the street raking up trash and spinning dirt and garbage in the air and nature frowns at the instability floating around.

The water in the woods has dried up and the rivers and the brooks have sealed up; the puddles in the street have disappeared and an early drought appears.

The water pressure fell low and an unfamiliar omen was dancing around the sun, it looked scary but it made the legend of time very happy.

They interpret it from my dreams and they know exactly what it means; tradition and culture walks hand in hand but what do you do when you learn that the legend is not true.

The crack has been there for thirty-five years and you have nothing to fear, the crack is the clue to the secret spots, follow it carefully and you will discover what you have got.

 It will take you to different place and show you the different races; it will take you to the tunnels in the deep and lead you to opening in the street.

The crack is where the journey begins. Follow it and you will not sin.
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