I remember walking this street countless times. I cannot shake the familiarity of this place. I remember it in sun and in rain. The old, white buildings, the perfect sidewalk, the square stones rounded by time. The people, smiling, quietly walking. It must be years since I walk here.
Each day on the same hour, day after day. Someone has come to see me. From far away, a place I once called home. Now it seems only a memory. They are loud and this is not easy for me. I must show them around. They want to use a car and this thought almost makes me sick so I let them drive away while I start to run. Nobody looks strange at me as I run on the special lane which at some time replaced one of the car lanes. The air is clean and this feels so natural to me. Yet at some time I walk past somebody which calls me. The language is that of the lost place.
I cannot stop, I must run. So I continue to run while the voice, her voice runs behind me. We continue to run until I’ve climbed the hill to the park and circled around buildings. The voice still runs behind me, I still do not stop and the voice now seems that of a good friend running with me. Yet at the first crossing I make a quick turn and lay down in the grass while the women running after me continues to run around the block. Her names pops into my head: A. P.
I continue running on the hill to the modular store. I enter the first module perpendicularly on the slope yet I can only see the second module through a thick glass. I circle searching for a way in. A guy laughs at me. No matter how long I will be here I will never be one of them. I exit to the left, reach a staircase, which I follow down to the other module which I enter to the right.
I am now outside, on the green slope. I’ve forgotten my visitors from the past. I continue walking, cross the street to find the old, white buildings. My eye follows a sun ray reflected from a glass window. I close the eyes only to open them again, awake in my bed, in the past.

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