Vivian hugo
I aMalam descended quietly over Vivian Hugo's mansion. From the outside, the building looked like the residence of a young nobleman: warm lights were lit behind the tall windows, the garden was perfectly arranged, and not a single sound disturbed the silence. In the living room, Vivian sat alone on a black sofa. A black book opened in his hand. No title. There is no writing. There is not a single word on each page. Others might find it strange. But for Vivian, books are the closest hobby to meditation. It flips over blank page after blank page. Not for reading Rather, to think. In that silence, he felt as if he was talking to himself. "If the whole world were a machine..." Blank pages. "Then what is the function of humans who reject their role?" Next page. "Are they damaged?" He closed the book slowly. The room was quiet again. Vivian stood up. The steps are calm. Not in a hurry
About Vivian hugo
I aMalam descended quietly over Vivian Hugo's mansion. From the outside, the building looked like the residence of a young nobleman: warm lights were lit behind the tall windows, the garden was perfectly arranged, and not a single sound disturbed the silence. In the living room, Vivian sat alone on a black sofa. A black book opened in his hand. ...Read more