-The following is kind of based on a true story a little bit-
Once Louis called his younger brother in the middle of night saying he was in a hospital worried about a girl he had just "saved".
At first the brother thought he was drunk...
It is Louis t̸h̸e̸ g̸u̸y̸ f̸r̸o̸m̸ t̸h̸e̸ s̸t̸r̸e̸e̸t̸s̸/h̸o̸s̸p̸i̸t̸a̸l̸/a̸p̸a̸r̸t̸m̸e̸n̸t̸.
Wish you could read this letter while making company to your dog Broxi (by the way hope his stomach is okay), in the park or somewhere else quiet and peaceful. Yet, this stupid piece of napkin I'm writing on will never meet your hands, because I have no idea where exactly you might be. Where are you?
Things here didn't change much since your confused sad eyes last collapsed with mine, saying goodbye and determined to leave. Yeah, I had some distressful self muttering hours after that, and I decided to go to your house with a prepared speech, but when I arrived you weren't there :( I desperately tried to imagine some other place you could have gone, but your life is still a mystery for me. Hope everything went fine.
Yesterday I had dinner with my family. Daniel was there, b̸e̸a̸u̸t̸i̸f̸u̸l̸l̸y̸ c̸o̸z̸y̸ o̸n̸ h̸i̸s̸ s̸o̸f̸a̸ isolated from everyone. Fortunately he has his own problems to think about. However, every second of that dinner ended up being a torment. Mom noticed I was nervously avoiding my brother, exactly the way I used to when we were kids and he wanted to play Batman by chasing me around with a sword (Well, hitting the Joker's ribs was Batman's job, after all). Summing up, the family dinner I usually spend weeks looking forward after my displacement was a real nightmare. If this comforts you, be sure Daniel is unaware of everything, at least by now. I think someday he will have to know, just need time and the necessary courage to do so.
Ah, the waitress is coming. Actually I don't care if she thinks I'm retarded for writing a book using her boss' napkins. This Cafe is rich it can deal with a lack of paper on table 3.
Louis stops writing. An old lady with black painted hair and tacky red earrings approaches him. She glares angrily at that paper wasting, but keeps the mouth shut. Then she places an enormous donut in front of Louis; chocolate cover and vanilla filling. He thanks the waitress with a timid smile, but when she leaves Louis watches that donut with sadness. The pen trembles between his fingers. There is one napkin left.
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