With much annoyance, I’ll admit that Hercules was right. I can’t concentrate on reading the book when my attention is elsewhere. It’s been a while since he disappeared into a brick walled building which really doesn’t look like somewhere business meetings take place but instead like an old abandoned gallery of some sorts. And I'm left sitting on the bench outside, next to a small stoned water fountain in front, in the same alleyway, thinking of when he told me that he remembered the time I confessed my darkest secret. The fact that he brought it up in a rude manner, did hurt me but I also never expected him to remember something deep about myself. Now I'm not sure what to think of it.
There aren’t a lot of people around and that’s possibly either because it’s still pretty early in the mor
