So after about a week of patiently waiting, passing by his apartment door and cats still lurking around the courtyard, I notice the note I left on the door vanished. For around a day there was nothing there. The next morning, as I walked past Zampanó’s house, I noticed another note, looking disheveled, posted hastily on the door. I trotted over and was met with a composite of a post card, old receipt and library card all taped together. The message was in a spiral around a blue square he drew in the middle. The note read as follows.
“Dear Ms. McClellan,
I received your message, although I must decline your offer. Everything in this world is not quite as it seems^1.
- I Acquired My kNack Of Transparency Recently, Especially After Losing my mind.”
I noticed that his door was cracked open, and I pushed it slightly, only to reveal emptiness with scattered papers covering every square inch of floor. About that time a cat slipped past me, I took one final look, and shut the door. Maybe he’s right. One thing is for sure, whoever he is certainly doesn’t want to be found.