Adam Heath

The manuscript Marta had found was in remarkable condition, given its age. Slightly faded, certainly, but remarkably well kept. An incredible relic from a long-forgotten era. And there, in the middle of our near-perfectly-kept front page, the author's name. Rita Rey.

I saw Marta's post and within minutes was sending her a message. It was instinctive. And not very me. I don't do instinctive like this. I was sure she might struggle to remember me, and anyway, what I was about to say was likely to be overly complicated and... weird.