Hey everyone !! This is one part of my Short Stories but I have been making this cute google doc of codes for steemit because I have several people that is new in the platform, and some of the best people in here maybe do not have this to make the steemit structure to look even better if you want it just go to the bottom part and there is the link.

Hola a todos !! Esta es una parte de mis relatos cortos pero he estado haciendo este lindo documento de códigos de google para Steemit porque tengo varias personas que son nuevas en la plataforma, y algunas de las mejores personas aquí tal vez no tengan esto para hacer que la estructura del post se vea aún mejor. Si lo quieres, simplemente ve a la parte inferior y allí está el enlace.

Era una mañana ajetreada, el calor que despedia el horno casi derretia las cosas al rededor; era el interior de un motor donde los pistones era cada persona que estaba allí trabajando a toda velocidad. Era como una danza, una especie de ritual y era la chica que los observaba quien los había entrenado, era la directora de la orquesta. La idolatraban casi como a una diosa.

La chica tomó el periódico y vió en primera plana una fotografía de una mujer joven de cabello fucsia y chillon hasta los hombros, un corte Bob perfecto "Susan Folet lo hace de nuevo" rezaba debajo. Era ella pero no en su mejor ángulo.

Ni se molestó en leer la noticia, levantó mi mirada y un escalofrio le recorrio el cuerpo. Era Jhon parado frente a la tienda con la mirada perdida, ella tardó al menos un par de segundos en salir, cruzó la calle para encontrarse con él pero estaba en su modo favorito, modo zombie.

Pero el no contestó; Susan se fumó un cigarrillo a su lado. Veía desde este lado de la calle la pastelería y su movimiento, era como una locomotora a todo vapor que no pararia e iba a estrellarse, la cantidad de clientes que habia hizo ver pequeña la pasteleria de Jhon. Casi podia sentir en carne propia el nivel de estrés que cada uno de los empleados tenian; debía volver. Le habló de nuevo a Jhon y miró la hora en su reloj, tenia casi una hora ahi con él en la calle mirando la tienda, asi que se fué a continar trabajando, sin olvidarse de hecharle un ojo a Jhon a cada cierto tiempo.

Jhon sobresaltado volteó y para su sorpresa estaba Susan allí a su lado, se limpió el sudor del susto y le contó a su amiga todo, la llamada la tristeza el viaje los visitantes.

It was a busy morning, the heat that was getting out of the oven almost melted all the things around; It was like the inside of an engine where the pistons were every person who was there working at full speed. It was like a dance, a kind of ritual and was the girl who watched them who had trained them, it was the director of the orchestra. They idolized her almost like a goddess.

The girl took the newspaper and saw on the first page a picture of a young woman with the hot pink hair not too long, a perfect Bob cut "Susan Folet do it again" prayed below. It was her but not in her best angle.

She didn't bother to read the news, she raised her look and a feverish chill went through his body There was Jhon standing in front of the store with his eyes lost, in the other side of the street . It took her at least a couple of seconds to leave, she crosed the street and stand next to him but he was in his favorite mode, zombie mode.

But he didnt answer; Susan smoked a cigarette next to him. She could saw from this side of the street the bakery and its movement, it was like a locomotive at full steam that would not stop and it was going to crash, the amount of clients that were buying that morning had made Jhon's pastry shop look small. She could almost feel in my own flesh the level of stress that each of the employees had; She needed to go back so she try to spoke again to John and looked at the time on his watch, she was almost an hour there with him in the street looking at the store, so she go back to work, not forgetting to keep an eye on Jhon every time.

Jhon startled turned and to his surprise there was Susan at his side, he cleaned the sweat of fright and told his friend everything, the call the sadness the visitors... The journey.