You were not a very famous writer, but your books were very good both in terms of plot and in terms of characters and their development.

On this day, early in the morning, you were sitting on a park bench and writing a book. It was quite quiet and calm here, because it was too early to wake up. suddenly someone touched your shoulder, you turned around and saw Kavinsky. he looked at you and then at what you were writing.

"What are you writing, writer?"