A year after the events.
“Allen?”
“I’m here, Lena!”
A loud crash prompts me to run into the room which serves as both bedroom and a workplace to my friend. Sprawled on the floor, he gets up painfully.
“What are you doing now?”
“DIY. I knew that if I plugged the cable of the...”
“No, mercy!” I interrupt him. “No computers. When you start, you don’t stop and I have to listen to you for hours without understanding anything.”
He gets up heavily and joins me. We sit on the couch, pushing away the various computer parts lying around there. I put a shopping bag between us.
“Look what I brought you.”
I show him the contents of his fridge for a few days. Since the Venetian adventure, I take care of him. Allen is dangerously agoraphobic. The journey between the place where he was held and t
