Brian stood in the middle of a crossroads surrounded by a huge forest. The leaves were already turning red and gold. It seemed to be a beautiful September afternoon.

Suddenly he heard voices that slowly but steadily came closer. They were talking about him. He looked around but couldn't see anyone. A strange sensation overcame him. Brian felt half frightened, half curious. He wanted to run away, but didn't know which way to turn.

He left the path and even before he could hide himself he lost the ground beneath his feet. He fell. The voices grew louder. Something grabbed his legs and held them up. Dark shapes gathered around him.

Then Volker regained consciousness.
"Volker, is that you?" a familiar voice asked.
"My name is Brian,… or: Don - Donald?"
"Volker? Are you ok?"
"Yes, I'm Volker… what happened?"
"You suddenly collapsed," the woman with the dark, frizzy hair explained. "But what are you doing on a train to Westport?"