47 - Jessy

The next night, even traumatized by the idea of being strongly escorted around the city and wearing a colorful wig all the way by car, I attended the meeting at Hazz's house. The apartment in which Hazz lived was not as decadent as I thought. The facade of the building was made of bricks burned by the sun, rising on six floors, whose wide windows were all facing the sun, whether it was its sunrise, or its por.

There was no doorman. No one to communicate the arrival of a visit, maybe that's why he was already waiting for me in front of the entrance gate, holding an umbrella when he saw my car park. His hair was loose, and I could see all the fulfillment of the strands. It was indeed big, but loose gave him a much better look than the prisoner in that weird way. He almost looked like someone else there, although the flashy sweater and colored pants didn't help at all.

A slight rain from the beginning of December was starting to fall in the city, and Hazz had the common sense of approach