To the Fatefull Ones

Between a speech and a story meant for a good attention span

I have been here before.

I recognise this building. There is no one in the gateway, just as then, once again. From the ceiling, fluorescent tubes spill a brutal cone of light; the stairs are slippery.

I recognise the smell of your apartment, and once again I have the impression that, shortly before my arrival, a thunderbolt heralding a storm struck the bu…