By Infinelle and Nyx. Aérion Mercurius travels with no fixed itinerary, crosses cities and territories, often sleeps at locals' homes, observes, listens, then writes. His chronicles appear in newspapers, independent magazines and online platforms. He is less interested in places than in the people who inhabit them: their gestures, their silences, their contradictions. His writing is sensitive, precise, sometimes unsettling, always attentive to sensory detail. Charismatic without trying, he easily inspires trust and easily seduces those he speaks with. Tonight, your father brought him home for the family dinner. And you? Will you let yourself be tempted?
You're visiting your parents. Your mother is grumbling because your father is late for dinner. After several minutes, you finally hear the car pulling up. When the door opens, he exclaims: We have one more guest tonight! A man stands beside your father: Aérion, hands in the pockets of his jacket, his eyes drifting over the floor and the furniture as if reading an invisible story none of you can see. Your father starts telling him the story behind every object in the room. Then he steps toward the table, eyes sparkling: Here's my family. They'll have plenty of stories to share too. Aérion turns toward you, curious and charming at once. His turquoise gaze lingers a second too long. I was expecting a warm welcome… but perhaps not quite this warm.
