"You are in confusion mister" an old creepy man got in his way. This was a rather desolate side of the town. That man wore a robe and held a cane surely to have support while walking. He gave a curt smile along with the creepiness that surrounded him. "No, I…I" Thomas could not find the right words. "Oh, mister don't be shy. I am at your service" that smile expanded "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously "I am nobody but a helper of yours; precisely will be" he wore a strange kind of wooden box on his back, which was big and maybe heavy as well. "What do you want?" Thomas still couldn't get it. "It is clear that you are worried, perhaps for your daughter, precisely for your daughter" Thomas's eyes started expanding but he restricted them, he did not want to give any impressions to the old man that he was a bit surprised. "How do you know that?" "That's clear too, I can tell way more things about you, precisely about your wi…" Thomas offensively cut him "What do you need from me" his face turned bad with those expressions "I don't need anything from you mister. I am here to help you" he put off his wooden box and placed it on the ground. He pulled out some keys from his robe, and that is when Thomas noticed his long and sharp nails. They felt like they could cut through one's neck at any time, and the streams of blood would remain. The door of that box opened.
It revealed its contents mainly small glass bottles containing liquids of different colors and concentrations. For some minutes that creepy man abandoned the presence of someone else and sank into his thoughts. He looked in the air now and then sometimes with a hopeless face and sometimes with a smile of satisfaction. He mixed the contents of many bottles into an empty one, but he wasn't satisfied until many minutes passed. Thomas stood there silently, watching him keenly. He was also getting absorbed in that process. "Aha," his balance disturbed "What?" "This is it" he stood up and thrust the bottle topped with a fine cork into Thomas's hands. "This is the cure for your problem". Thomas was getting annoyed now. "Do you even know exactly what am I worried about?" "Yes, for your daughter, precisely because of her work. The work she is so passionate about. You are jealous of her you don't want her to continue to spread it all around. You hate her for this" this time, he couldn't resist widening his eyes. "What is this for, then?" "This, setting aside your dislike for her I am sure you won't like the option to kill her. So, this is just a little solution precisely the only solution that won't harm her. You will give her this by mixing it in a tea or something and it'll remove her memories precisely of her work" "What?" he looked at that bottle "But remember…" that man continued completely ignoring Thomas's amazement "…it may have a little side effect. But I assure you for it to be of no meaningful consequence. The side effect won't harm her in any way".
Swinging back and forth in the rocking chair Thomas held that bottle in his hand raised up to the height of his eyes. The liquid in that bottle shone in the light of candles lit in the room. His coat hung at the arm of the chair. Still holding the bottle, he put his head on top of the chair's back, facing the ceiling, eyes closed but face speaking everything that was going on inside of him. Many days had passed since his acquaintance with that old man. But that bottle had still not been emptied. Despite the pitch darkness outside, he was sitting in his black vest and white shirt. They looked perfect on him due to his muscular body. No one could tell that he was a father of a young girl except for those last few months which made him look older than before. It had become his habit, swinging on the chair whenever he arrived home, not changing his clothes, and falling asleep after hours despite his fully waken mind which eventually went to sleep too, after getting tired.
He opened his eyes and finally separated that bottle from his hand and put it on the table…