Voy Gritando Por La Calle -

Elias kept walking, his pace turning into a rhythmic strut. He began to chant it, a mantra for the midnight wanderer. He shouted his dreams, his grocery list, and his favorite lyrics. He became a one-man parade, a megaphone for the mundane.

He started small. A low hum in the back of his throat as he passed the shuttered bakery. By the time he reached the park, the hum had sharpened into a whistle. But it wasn't enough. "I am here!" he suddenly shouted. Voy Gritando por la Calle

The man paused, his hand on the window frame. For a second, the silence of the city felt fragile, like it might shatter. Then, surprisingly, the man let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "Barely! Go home, you lunatic!" Elias kept walking, his pace turning into a rhythmic strut

Elias looked up, a manic grin plastered on his face. "I'm alive, Antonio!" he guessed at the name. "Are you?" He became a one-man parade, a megaphone for the mundane

Windows began to slide open. A man in a bathrobe leaned out of a third-story flat, squinting into the dark. "Hey! Shut it!"

By the time he reached his own front door, his voice was a raspy ghost of itself. His throat burned, and his neighbors surely thought he’d had a breakdown. But as he turned the key in the lock, the weight in his chest was gone. The street was silent again, but the air still felt like it was ringing.