Rain was coming from the low, almost touching ground, clouds and my mind was still wandering, far away, linked to the office problems, when a sun ray suddenly touched
my face. I raised my head only to see the clear sky, the clouds were missing. I raised my head only to see the clear sky, the clouds were missing. I looked down and my car vanished. Not only my car, but every other car in the car park, and the car park itself. All gone.The road was still there and the forest too, a little bit different, but still there, the whole place was both different and the same. Apart of the small road there was no other sign of human activity in the area. I remembered the winter valley, but that was like a picture in front of my eyes, apart from the smell of the wolves of course. Here I am in the picture, but at least no wolves, yet. I pinched my nose and the pain scared the hell of me. It’s real! It shouldn’t be but it is. My legs went weak and missing any other good idea I laid down on the grass. The forest was like any other forest, nothing special, trees, birds and probably some animals, invisible at day time. With some effort I put wolves out of my mind, and started to feel comfortable despite the implausible event, only to hear a sound made by a small herd of animals most probably horses. Not associating horses with danger I was not panicked, I was even interested to see the show. They appeared, at the point where the road curved only to be hidden by the forest, trampling and denting the ground with their hooves in gallop, dust swirled up around creating a halo effect. The big surprise was the riders, warriors in coloured medieval armours, and their speed, coming toward me. I still didn’t panic, it’s a dream, it’s like a movie, I whispered to myself. But I had to jump to my feet, eyes wide staggering, and start to run when they yelled pointing swords at me: “kill the spy, kill the heretic”. I moaned like an echo: they can see me, they want to kill me, they can kill me. Even now I remember the steely eyes fixed on me, mouth slightly open and the Gallic moustache of the first one, probable their leader. The distance between us became smaller and smaller despite my efforts; I raised my speed, feeling my lungs burning, loosing air, panting when in disbelief I realised that I was running like an actor in a movie, on the same direction with the riders along the road. I never thought movies could have had such a strong subliminal effect on me and I was not interested in prolonging the suspense for a nonexistent audience. I jumped into the forest only to hit the back of my car, my kneecap crashing into the metal, hurt but with the satisfaction that I tricked the riders. Gasping for breath I walked slowly keeping a hand on the car.
Now think that you are suddenly inside the car, safe and sound, but still afraid, looking with nervous wide eyes to see if the horses, and the dangerous creatures riding on their back, are still galloping toward you. And your friends are starring as you are panting and trying to recover your breath, starting the car with shaking hands, and all this in such a quiet, lovely and rainy place like the park of the Heidelberg Castle. Will you tell them: I just escaped a bunch of Lancelots running after me with swords glittering in the sun? Not that I was really sure that they were after me, or even that they were something real, but at least they looked very real and very running after me. In short, I didn’t say anything.