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 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 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 to 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 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.

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.

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.