What would you do if you discover that you have been talking through cards with your greatest enemy? Add the fact that you became fond of him in a certain way.
Well, that's what happened to our dear John. Come in to see what happens.
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The black-haired man was in his apartment reading for the tenth time one of the many books written by his father, even if he knew the stories from beginning to end, he would never get tired of reading those texts since they brought him a feeling of immense tranquility.
He placed a bookmark on the sheet and closed the book, stood up directing his steps to what was his "space to have fun", well, he called it that. Painting as well as drawing were recommended to him as a therapy to relax, which worked quickly as he loved how the brushes created simple spots that could easily turn into animals, people and even very beautiful landscapes.
He sat on the bench in front of his easel where the painting he was working on was, but before taking a brush and continuing with his work, he stopped to observe it in detail in order to find something to correct it.
The painting was about a garden of dandelions at sunset, there was something that did not convince him.
He sighed not finding any flaw that would bother him, maybe he was thinking too much about school, he took the brush again and this time also his palette, then he started to take the oil paints to place them on it and then mix them together.
His gaze was diverted to another incomplete painting, the one in the cafeteria window, he had no idea why he had left it like that or rather, why he hadn't finished it. He had a feeling that something or maybe someone was missing.
—Maybe I'm stressing myself too much—he said to the air, he put aside the things and stood up then he took that picture to observe it better.
What will be missing?
Even if he asked himself thousands of times, he couldn't find answers. Then he looked at one of the little boxes on his many desks, exactly where he kept the letters he had received lately, and that's when an idea occurred to him.
If he needed inspiration, maybe asking a person he doesn't know would help him even though there was another problem... he didn't know exactly what to ask but he remembered the words of his friend Sera from him.
He took the blank sheet beginning to write on it his many questions that could remove his curiosity about his secret friend, after all that was what it was about, getting to know each other and the best tool is questions.
And that was how he spent the rest of the afternoon.
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