Prologue
He came to life in Florence. Now what might have been a single magical encounter has arrived in his (so-called) real life.
I feel like I don’t have control anymore. He arrives in my life, the author, I just write it down. I have to. I don’t have a choice.
That’s how I feel about Charlie Holiday.
In Florence, he set foot into the wild and I knew there was no getting him back into his cage. Or, well, cage is a little harsh. Back into the life he had previously known.
Because that previous life he had been living was not the life he knew he was born for.
That life was, how can I put this, one dimensional and he somehow knew there was more. He didn’t know what the more was (or why or how or when or who) but he just knew.
In Florence, he was first introduced to it.
In Utrecht,
