When I was a child, I was always struck by the pre-Hispanic vestiges that stood just one block from my house, Huaca Santa Cruz
Those ruins were always surrounded by a series of bars that prevented passage; at least that is the memory I maintain, but that was not an impediment to an idea for a short story that came to mind from time to time.
A few years ago, the inspiration came to write The Mist Club, a tale in which I try to relate some aspects that marked my childhood: life next to the park, roller skates, bicycles, the slingshot manufacturer, the foggy mornings and afternoons, and, of course, the huaca.
It didn't take me long to add Huaca Pucllana to the story, an archaeological complex of even greater importance, which served as a fundamental element for the plot since in The Mist Club both huacas are connected and serve as the setting for an exciting adventure.