Trafford’s Trading Club

Anatoly doesn't know what this mysterious Mr. Sullivan is trying to bring him to this place.

In Anatoly's view, the place was nothing more than a very ordinary residence - but Sullivan asked him if he remembered anything when he got here.

Anatoli knew Sullivan was talking about his amnesia.

Anatoly didn't feel like forgetting anything - but whether it was from Sullivan's words and deeds, some of the Bishop's words, or even his sudden crucifixion, made his rational analysis conclude that he had really forgotten something.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Sullivan, I didn't think of anything.” Anatoly shook her head.

Sullivan nodded unexpectedly, "It's not just you, the people who live around here, who don't know who this house is. ”

Anatoli asks, "Who was it that lived here? ”

Sullivan said slowly: "A widower with a 10-year-old child. They should have left only a few days ago because some of the food in the fridge was still in the shelf life. Just..."

See Sullivan speaking of pauses here, Anatolyton is more focused.

Sullivan looked at the house in front of him at this moment, seemingly puzzled: "We can't trace the fathers' and sons' whereabouts… as if they had evaporated. ”

Anatoli frowned: “How can you escape the sight of a monastery if you are just an ordinary man? ”

“I'm afraid it's not just ordinary people.” Sullivan stared deeply at Anatoly.

Don't know if it's an illusion.

At this moment, Anatoly seemed to feel some slight fear in Mr. Sullivan's eyes.

“Anatoli, you need to come with me to the convent headquarters.” Sullivan suddenly said.

However, having graduated from the monastery, Anatoli, who had just been appointed here, was quite puzzled.

I just heard Sullivan bluntly say, "I have a lot of limitations, and I can't do any complete magic in this place. So you can only go to your monastery, where there are measures that will allow me to be freed. ”

Anatoly was in his heart because he heard what Sullivan had just said… ‘you’?

……

The two departing priests did not know that they had a pair of eyes and watched them constantly in front of the door of the dwelling where they had been watching.

It was sitting in a chair in front of this house, with a phone screen all the time, and Rochu —— Unight wasn't here.

It was not, of course, Lochu who deliberately left her here, but simply woke up early and prepared breakfast and went to the supermarket to purchase items.

Lochu no longer lived in the first hotel, but after Oleg quietly left Moscow with Antonio Lille, he also quietly moved in here as a temporary settling point.

It's not that the hotel apartment prepared by the maid is bad.

It's just that he feels like he needs to smell something —— like a rocking chair on the front porch, and he feels like he doesn't want to move. The hotel apartment didn't seem to give him that experience.

Here's the smell of happiness that lingers when Kamala is still alive.

“You guys.”

It wasn't until those two priests had left that Lochu looked up at the sky this morning —— what seemed to exist in human perception.

But I've seen the club's old books, Rochu, and it's pretty clear there's nothing on them.

It exists, but it is neither in heaven nor on earth.

“Heaven… three more years. ”

Lochu stretched out his lazy waist and stood up from his chair.

He put on his phone's headset and kicked his shoes gently, jogging out the way, along the street in the neighborhood, all the way.

Such a good morning for jogging.

On the way, Rocchu met a lot of people who also chose to come out on the highway this time. People who love sports seem to have a passion in their lives.

He met a lot of people who greeted him, men and women in form. They may be admiring the scenery along the way - what are the shadows in their eyes?

Rochu doesn't know.

He had the concept of color, but all the colors seemed to him to be a single hue. They fit together scattered, seemingly regular, but also seemingly irregular.

The whole world is like a black and white world in cognition.

But all of a sudden he slowed down and slowly slowed himself down and finally came to an old house.

That's painting outside the walls of my house… it's more appropriate to say that it's graffiti.

Graffiti is not colorful and far from being as vibrant as street graffiti, it can attract attention. More than anything ironic, it can be a strong expression of graffiti's dissatisfaction with society and can resonate with society.

It's just a scan of a city on a brown wall, simply outlined with black lines —— but the city doesn't draw proportionally.

It's twisted, like a reflection of a city on a haha mirror, straight buildings become fat, neat roads become curved.

Lochu reached out and touched the wall and held his finger... it didn't look like it was drawn with a charcoal pen, but it looked more like it was drawn directly with charcoal.

Rough lines.

“I've been passing here every day for a while. ”

Suddenly someone was talking behind Rochu. Lochu turned his head and saw a man in a running suit with a mask and a duck tongue hat.

Should be middle-aged.

It has a very hard feeling.

Lochu just glanced and looked up, taking two steps back to be able to retrieve all of the painting —— the middle-aged man behind him stops here at this point, and leans back and looks quietly at Moscow, distorted by the wall.

He suddenly said, "This painting is not finished yet. ”

“Mmm.” Lochu nodded.

The man seemed a little shameful: “About a year ago? I started running around here in the morning, and occasionally I saw a young man painting here. It was winter again, and I was quite impressed. His clothes were thin and he looked terrible, like a homeless man. But he didn't seem cold at all. All he had was a charcoal, and by the time I saw it, the painting had come out of a building. ”

He seems to be telling a story that is rarely shared… shared with strangers.

“I've been watching him for days. One day I couldn't help but walk up and ask him.” The man with the mask and hat looked at Lochu and seemed to smile, "I asked him," Why didn't you burn the charcoal in your hand to warm it up? ”

“What did he say?” Lochu asked casually.

“He didn't answer me.” The man shook his head, "but asked me a question:" Do you have a dream? "”

“Dream?” Roccius had some thoughts.

Men nodded casually, “Yes, dreams… to be honest, I don't know if I still have dreams. Later on, however, I would always spend some time running around here for a little while, on the one hand to exercise my body, on the other hand… I think I want to see what this guy can do. ”

He shook his head: "Unfortunately, the painting didn't finish, and I haven't seen him in a long time. However, I do come here occasionally, thinking that maybe I'll run into this guy again, and I'll take a good look at this unfinished painting here. ”

“There's something fascinating about it.” Rochu laughed.

And the man whispered, "Yeah. Looking at this unfinished, distorted city can always make me feel different, as if I was always wary of myself… I can't let myself live in such a distorted city. Oh, said some boring topics. ”

“Nothing." Rochu shook his head.

The man started running, and suddenly he reached out and patted Rochu's shoulder: "Boy, are you Chinese? I've been to this country a few times, and it's a great country. But if you speak Russian so well, think about staying here and developing, young man, there's always a chance. ”

“I stay the same everywhere.” Lochu shook his head.

The man nodded, seemingly unaware of the meaning of the phrase, and ran away - but not long after he ran out, a black sedan slowly followed him.

Lochu turned to look at the graffiti on the wall.

This is actually a painting by Yuri. But where he is now, is the house of the Decabees… perhaps greeting Miss Anna, who was brought home last night.

“Dreams. ”