The evening on the day of the late autumn, with the sun set and the night slowly taking over the sky, everything went quiet as if representing the dead nature around. The coldness got worse day by day and the days got shorter bit by bit, deleting the traces of the summer sun and replacing it by the faded color of its rays. My fingers lightly flip through pages of my book, sliding over the glibly platform of the paper, the light in the room now the only thing illuminating the chamber that I slept in, chasing away the darkness that threatened to overtake. It was late, as I recall, when we came back from work. The maids were running around the whole house; cleaning, tidying and throwing out the broken or unnecessary things. Apparently, as Eva had informed me, a guest of a high importance was
