Chapter 33: The Diary

POV RICHARD

"What diary? That's the only important thing I assimilate from that conversation.

I'm a practical man and I hate these poetic beatings to speak the fucking truth. And I will make this gypsy talk, even if I had to forcefully grab her arm to do it.

By some misfortune, a man with a cart came toward us, and both she and I jumped to opposite sides to escape the impact.

After three coughs from the stench of the goat-smelling haystacks that were being transported in the wagon, I get up to look for her.

"Shit!" I scream as I accept that she was gone and my eyes fail to identify her in that crowd.

But in compensation, my gaze goes to meet the clock inside the ticket booth and I am almost beat the minutes reconciled with my accomplice.

I rush off and there is no time for those filth to pester me again with their trinkets or existential problems.

And at the same place we agreed upon, my man elected to be my right hand man with rewards of silver coins, awaits me with a smile on his f