One quiet morning in Guadalajara, as I tended to my rooftop plants beneath a clouded sky, an unusual movement caught my eye on the eastern horizon. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted an object shaped like a rhombus—completely black, without any lights or reflections. It moved in a straight line, rotating smoothly on its own axis, creating an almost hypnotic glide.
I quickly reached for my old Nokia phone, hoping to capture this mysterious presence. Unfortunately, the device froze just as I shifted from still photos to video mode. The object began descending behind a line of houses, disappearing from sight before I could record it.
Oddly, before this sighting, I had trouble connecting to my wireless network—an interruption that felt more than mere coincidence. Even my dog was uneasy, retreating under the desk, trembling and restless.
Living in a part of Guadalajara where no building exceeds three stories due to historic city planning preserving its colonial charm, the sighting felt all the more extraordinary. This silent, enigmatic diamond-shaped figure highlighted how little we truly understand what might be gliding unseen above our urban skies.