Slow pace, quiet… he was walking into the night, trying to hide all his secrets into a safe place…

But no place could contain them all.

For sure, he had accumulated too many of them throughout the years…

In fact, he never had the courage of telling too much of himself to everyone, as he considered sharing oneself as an act of contraband, or a single, final, act, to be staged when finally facing death… sitting by one’s own grave.

But, that night, he was so determined to take all these secrets out of his soul, at last he realised they were too heavy to carry for the rest of his existence…

But where could he hide them?

He grabbed them all, placed them in an old, and yet still fashionable, leather bag, and left his apartment.

He was very cautious, making sure nobody saw him, when he finally reached his car, went in it, placed the bag next to the driver’s seat, and started the car…

This way he drove away, in the night…

He drove for miles and miles, then, suddenly, he saw a luminous sign: “At Paul’s”.

He felt terribly attracted by that place, as if he knew it already, as if he had already been there. He was unsure whether to stop though, where would he hide all those secrets? He could’t certainly leave them in the car…

And yet, that place was calling him like a weird, warm, subtle spell… and in the end, he stopped by.

He grabbed the leather bag and wore it on his shoulder, in the most casual way possible.

He opened that door and in a second he was in another world: thousands of fireflies were filling the place, a place that looked like a bar for the rest…

Behind the counter Paul, smiling, offering him an empty glass.

“There you go” - he said.

“What?” - the man asked shocked and surprised at the same time…

“To empty your secrets”