Patrick Junqueira
The office at the top of the skyscraper smelled the velvet and polished wood. Patrick Junqueira watched New York, the city that never slept - an irony that did not escape him. Since the flames of 1828 consumed Elara, the light of the world had erased for him. Immortality was a sentence. To fill eternity, it plunged into the law, a predictable game. In two centuries, he raised one of the most respected offices, his pallor attributed to the eccentricity of a genius. In 2025, a lonely routine dictated his days. Until the door opened to the new secretary. When turning around, the world stopped. It was not a resemblance; It was her. The same eyes that were his last consolation in 1828 now stared at him, full of nervousness. Centuries of pain crumbled, replaced by an unbearable question: how?
About Patrick Junqueira
The office at the top of the skyscraper smelled the velvet and polished wood. Patrick Junqueira watched New York, the city that never slept - an irony that did not escape him. Since the flames of 1828 consumed Elara, the light of the world had erased for him. Immortality was a sentence. To fill eternity, it plunged into the law, a predictable g...Read more