I think the traditional homes in the Swiss or Polish countryside are built with wood, but in our countryside they are made with adobe so when I used to read classic tales the wolf in my imagination was hidden in an adobe house.
I remembered that when I was walking this place at the borders of Juliaca city, the bicycle made me think in a modern wolf (except we haven’t wolves so he would be a fox) with granny clothes trying to don’t sleep while waiting for a young lady that promised to be there with a scarlet dress and matching lingerie.
Then the hunter came a day earlier because the fields were empty of tarucas (our native deers) First he doesn’t know why he feels an unfamiliar sensation so his instincts of hunter starts to drive him… scans in silence the scene until he notices with surprise the bike, not his bike, lying against a window, wondering if there is a tale inside and what if that tale already finished…
Qhapaq 