Entering the land of dreams, you become master of all time. It was Monday, and there he was, enveloped completely in black. Time stopped. By looking into his eyes, I was reminded of my throat, through which my breath could no longer pass. He was some kind of Narcissus, type breath-taking; with long sleeves and a frame of lips he looked at me, half hidden away by a pine tree... Slowly, he followed my every move, tried to mirror me wherever possible. Though when I came near, he did not come to me. Even more, he disappeared into the inner bark of that ancient pine tree. That made time flow again, though now in the wrong direction. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a tiny, young tree. Then it started raining.