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This quote was added by user263053
El viento azotaba los altos del valle, arrojando su rencor a las fustigadas hojas de los sauces. Sobre su cabeza el cielo se tornaba de una tonalidad ocre, despidiendo lágrimas que arrastraban el sudor que emergía de su rostro descompuesto; su respiración entrecortada y jadeante acompasaba el sonido de la tupida hierba reseca aplastada sin miramientos bajo sus desnudos pies.

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id_usu 148.65 97.9%
yogurt 147.85 97.4%
user267619 118.87 97.9%
user508247 116.63 98.4%
dasnam 115.91 95.2%
ael44pnn 110.78 94.5%
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