Fever

Before I fall asleep, ideas are woven, clear echoes that escalate in me, repetitive... I have been able to transfer what I wrote on Mila's laptop, now I can continue on mine and continue along that path to which derived inspiration pushes me of what I experienced and the little I know about Silvain.

I can't believe I'm jumping into that. Writing a draft about my boss has suddenly arisen and I am eager to follow it, perhaps this fuels illusions, because my soul is suffering from emotional famine. Behind closed doors, I am calm and start writing. My fingers dance on that keyboard until dawn, when I notice how late it is, I decide to stop and rest, but staying until that hour without sleeping a wink has consequently left me with insomnia.

The aftermath in the morning comes with a headache and exhaustion. I barely shower and relieve myself before getting ready. It happens that when I check my phone I have four missed calls from Silvain, horrified I open my eyes wide, he also left a