‘Aww, it’s so cool inside,’ I admired the place, stone built and sophisticated, like some fairy tale castle. I changed my sun-glasses to the clear ones and took a greedy suck of the sweet, refreshing air, then drank thirstily the icy citrus juice my hostess had offered while she gazed smiling at me. I love her, somehow she was more like my mother, or a close, really close friend. We exchange almost every piece of thought together. There was only one problem between us, that both of us were good listeners thus it took a while for one to begin talking, as we both had to think really hard to say something that might interest the other before speaking every time. Granny Hermes was full of stories and songs, which none of her children really treasured except for me.

‘Uni is going alright, gran,’ a pause, ‘remember the witty European professor I told you about? I’m currently studying from him. Oh, and I’m Professor Donna’s little protegee.’ I added almost proudly, though my listener seldom praise any of my teachers (since ’she knows nothing about them but through my biased words thus no judgments of them should come out of her’), gave high credits to Professor Donna, she respected musicians.

‘And my novel has finally been published.’ I added, knowing she would be pleased. It really took a long while for the publishing of this shy novel of mine, the editors kept sending words for me to cut it shorter, but at the end they retreated. Granny Hermes had been the authoress to a great deal of short stories and a well know poet of her time, she had published two novels. All of her works were under the pen-name ‘Schatten Sombras’. I had always been wondering where had she got the idea of such a pen-name, and whenever I asked, she merely told me it’s English translation being ’shadows’ and I knew perfectly well that ’sombras’ meant ’shades’ in Spanish.

That summer holiday was somewhat different, granny Hermes suddenly fainted early the second morning of my arrival, and after which she decided to tell ‘a bit of a story of herself’ to me, definitely fearing she would faint again and never to wake up from it. On the other hand I was to read my newly published novel to her in return of the favour (and had secretly prepared to dictate every valuable story down), and thus in a cloudy morning we started…

(end of part I, Chapter I, part II begins with the retell of the past by granny Hermes. Who was she? Where did she come from? Together we would also explore some of the troubles of our young narrator.)