At night, something woke me up from my sleep. Startled, I turned on the table lamp and realized that I was alone. Right, I was alone. Apart from my bed and my grey sofa, there was nothing in this room. I chose both and brought them into this room, so why did I wake up?

I looked at my sofa. Every fibre, every crack, every little hair on that sofa, I recognise it. "Why are you looking at me?" a voice asked me. Is it talking to me? "Who else should I talk to but you, so answer, why are you looking at me?" the voice sounded again. "I don't know," I replied, but my gaze never left the sofa. An unending moment passed by. I did not know how long I had been staring at the sofa. Slowly I began to take the first step to the sofa. It was as if all the time, which seemed to have stopped earlier, went by faster than ever. With the first step I lost my hair, with the second the few muscles of my body, with the third I found it harder to think and with the fourth step I forgot why I wanted to go to the sofa in the first place. Before this sofa I lost the remaining strength in my body, as well as my mind. In the end I collapsed.

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From this new angle I realized that I was wrong all along. I was not staring at a sofa, but at a foreign person. This foreign person knelt down before me and looked down on me. He made no sound and seemed almost inhuman. A question was on the tip of my tongue, but at the same moment I could not express it. After several failed attempts I saw a change. I could distinguish a smile. The man smiled at me. "Finally you ask the right question" he said. In the very next moment I could see more features. What I saw was a man with my face.

Again I lay in my bed and again I saw no one but myself in this room. However, I do not pay attention to this room and instead look at my hands. Exactly those hands, which are choking me at the very moment. 'Yes, that is how it should be, no, that is how it must be' were my last words.