In a room shrouded in darkness, there was a stack of books on the shelf beside the bed, burning with a hidden flame of knowledge; they were, after all, the main sustenance for the gloomy mind of a writer who had been working for some time on writing his debut novel. This novel was supposed to bring him "inner peace" and, if possible, some breakthrough in his life. He was primarily trying to bring order to the chaos reigning in his consciousness, which gave him no peace and caused insomnia, usually soothed by music, films, and literature. Typically, exhausted, he would fall asleep in the early morning and regain consciousness by noon, unless some particular event disrupted his dysfunctional daily routine.
After another difficult night, he had fallen into a lethargic sleep, only to be abruptly awakened by the sound of the phone; the publisher informed him that his novel would be published in a month. The writer was stunned by this information. Under different circumstances, he would probably have been happy with this news, but at that moment, his work was in a fragmentary state, much like his thoughts, which were trapped in the inertia of his overwhelmed mind...
Out of the night’s darkness emerged a human figure carrying a briefcase, dressed in a blue suit, likely in his mid-thirties, as there were a few wrinkles on his unshaven face, along with light-colored eyes and short brown hair. The mysterious newcomer slowly ascended the steps to the chapel, where he stood before a side altar next to which a nun was standing.
As he approached her, he was handed a piece of paper with some information, and then he hurriedly left the church, as if fearing he might be seen by someone. He passed a small park to find himself in a vast, dimly lit square, the pavement made of large yellowish-white tiles, with a few benches scattered around, unoccupied at that late hour. The stranger crossed the square, moving away from the church, from which, moments later, several figures dressed in black suits emerged.
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