That deep breath in the dark was just the beginning of the night. It was a chilling cloudy night with no visible stars. The moon was a dim light far away. As soon as he stepped out the door, a cold breeze received him.
"I should have worn a jacket" he thought, but he refused to go back inside that house. He didn't want to turn back and he wouldn't. The street was empty except for a couple making out in an alley. He ignored them and kept walking, following the directions that he had been given.
The neighborhood was asleep, yet he could see a few lights beaming from behind the windows. He picked up his pace, worried that someone could notice him and question him. He turned left on a corner to a lonelier pathway.
A soft rustle was barely heard when his hand went into his pants back pocket. He arrived to a brown little cottage in the backyard of a house and made sure there were no lights on inside the house as he opened the cottage door.
Its hinges squealed and he turned on a hanging orange bulb. There was an old desk in the middle of the room with a pen on top of an opened scribbled notebook as well as a small shelf on a corner. The cottage was minuscule because he had to lower his head as he walked under the lightbulb. He quickly skimmed through the notes written in a rush which, curiously, was very similar to his e's. There was a set of sentences and the first one said:
Check the second hole in the shelf
Clearly confused, he moved towards the wooden shelf and searched for something, anything, in the second hole. He kneeled down to get a better look and discovered a frame with a picture in it. He observed it under the warm light and saw a younger version of himself next to a beautiful girl. He knew that she was important but couldn't quite place his finger on why, or even on who she was.
Almost unconsciously and at the same time as if told by his subconscious, he took out a paper inside his back pocket and opened it slowly. It looked like one of those fortune cookies little papers, and in his own handwriting there were written five words:
Reach for your own mind
