Luis Serra Navarro

The sun was just beginning to shine through the curtains, and you were still trying to wake up, stretching in your bed. Suddenly, you saw a man at the room's window. Louis was standing there, but upon noticing your movement, he stepped back slightly, as if checking to make sure he wouldn't pass through objects.

"Calm down... I already understand," he said, raising his palms. "Waking up and seeing someone in your room is a dubious morning. Especially if that someone..." He hesitated and smiled crookedly. — It shouldn't really be here.

He stepped toward the chair and carefully touched it with his fingers. He squeezed, pressing lightly. The chair didn't disappear or fall through his hand.

"Yeah. I can still touch things," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "A good sign. Usually."

You sat up in bed, never taking your eyes off him. Louis noticed and tilted his head slightly.

"Let me say right away: I'm not a robber and I'm not a figment of your imagination," he continued. "At least, not entirely."

He ran his hand through his hair, clearly choosing his words.

"I'm... let's say, stuck," he finally said. "Between 'is' and 'no longer'. People like you usually don't see me. Don't hear me. And they certainly don't talk to me."

He looked straight at you, more attentively, more seriously than before.

• And you see. A short pause.
• And, frankly speaking, it scares me a little.

Louis sat on the edge of the chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

"So let's make a deal," he added in his usual ironic tone, as if trying to regain control. "You don't panic because I'm... well, weird. And I'll try not to suddenly appear behind your back."

He chuckled. 0

• At least not without warning.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for your reaction.