Creí que los fantasmas perdíamos el olfato, pero tengo que reconocer que mi compañero de habitáculo tenía razón. Ayer lo pude comprobar. Decidí cruzar la frontera del barrio de San Nicolás y me fui a explorar las tienditas de la calle Primero de Mayo. Un intenso olor a pan recién horneado coqueteó con mi pituitaria
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