Marcus Delacôte

Now I have to, really

Now that I started this madness, I better get on with it. I have to admit that a whole lot of this is inspired by a book called 'de Komst van Joachim Stiller', or to use the translated title 'the Coming of Joachim Stiller'.

I try to forget about the letter, but in the days following that morning the thought keeps nagging in the back of my mind, and I can't help my thoughts from drifting away towards that strange mr Delacôte and his even stranger letter. I don't tell anybody about it, though. They would either think I'd gone mad, or like my mum would probably call the police. I keep an eye out for the 'signs' the next day, despite of telling myself that it is all a joke, but I don't see anything that could clearly be a something I should keep Liam away from. 

As a distraction, I decide to pay a visit to Starbucks again. I don't know why I thought this would be a distraction, though. I don't have the guts to text Liam if he is working today and when I get there in the pouring rain, he isn't there. I disappointedly order a frappuchino under my own name. But when I take the cold cup from the worker, my name is not on it. 

1. Red - green - white.

I look back at the worker to ask if there's been a mistake, but he has vanished. At the spot where a girl with white dyed hair stood less than 5 seconds ago, is now a mousy brown haired boy, who looks like he's been standing at that spot for hours, looking at the tired look on his face. 

"Excuse me, where is the girl who just gave me this? She had white hair."

He looks at me weirdly, his tired eyes narrowing. "I do not have colleagues with white hair," he says, his voice sounding just as bored as he looks. "Please, move on. There are more people waiting to be served."

I try to protest but he ignores me then, turning to an elderly man behind me in the line. Confused and with a strange feeling in my stomach I walk outside. I don't want to stay in the shop a moment longer. I step out into the autumn air of Paris, the sounds of the busy city buzzing around me like a comforting blanket. I listen to the mixture of single loud sounds that blend together as a whole. The cars passing by, the citizens hurrying to wherever they need to be, the clicking cameras of tourists and the babbling in languages I don't recognise but I deduct the people speaking them are Chinese, something Eastern European and something that might be Dutch or German. 

I take sips from my drink as I stroll through the streets, not really looking at where I am going, my thoughts automatically going back to the letter. Signs. 

What if I missed an important sign? The letter made it clear that it was very important to keep an eye out for them. My eye falls on my cup. 1. Red - green - white. It doesn't make sense. What is red, green and white? The italian flag? No, that's green, white, red. I'm sure there are more countries with these colours as flag, but I'd have to look that up. I decide to just look out for something in these colours. Maybe it means nothing at all. 

But it has to? The strange disappearing girl is a mystery by itself. And who is this strange Marcus Delacôte? I need to do some important googling.