A girl is sticking out her thumb on a desolate road late at night. You’re driving on your way to your friends house. It’s late and you’re tired. You’re going to sleep over in your friends home. It’s the first time you visit, you meet, your friend since he moved out of his old home. In fact you have been looking forward to it for some time, now. It’s been too long since you saw your friend.
   This area is almost famous for drivers having problems with finding one's bearings, and you’ve got that thoroughly confirmed. Several times the last hour you’ve taken the wrong turn, driven back to familiar territory, and started all over again. You’ll be retiring early tonight and sleep soundly. And it’s late. And the whole scene looks a little... odd to you. But you want to help the girl, and she’s not likely to encounter other cars this evening. It is late, after all.
   So you stop and she gets in, in the passenger seat beside you. The fog and the cold seem to enter with her.
   - It has turned quite cold, hasn’t it? You say, shaking slightly.
   - Yes, she agrees.- I’ve never felt so cold in my entire life.
   You’re turning on the heater. Even if it’s summer outside. And almost immediately you have to check it, to see if you really turned it on. You did, and you can feel the warm air touching the skin on your fingers. But this is close to the valve. Ten, fifteen centimeters away, and the heat seem to dissolve into a hole in the very air.
   - So, how did you happen to end up out here? you ask lightly.- It can’t be a house for miles in these parts.
   - There... was a cab, she says.- It... disappeared.
   What an odd phrase. You’re wrinkling your brow in sudden deep thought. Wouldn’t the correct be «drove off», or something?
   Shrugging, you stop thinking about it. Or try to.
   - I was out here with friends, she’s suddenly bursting out.- but they disappeared, too. I was Alone.
   - Listen, you say casually,- I can’t imagine what has happened here tonight, but it must have been pretty awful for you. Can I interest you in a cop of tea or something. I’m on my way to a friend of mine, he lives nearby, and I can drive you home afterwards?
   - I live with my father, she said slowly.- Driving me home sounds fine, tea... sounds fine. Thank you!
   She’s looking at you with a grateful look in her eyes, those great almond eyes.
   There is a hill on the left hand, as you can see the first signs of civilization. The first signs of life, beyond the forest, beyond the road. There is a house on that hill. The moon is just about visible among the storm clouds, just above the roof.
   - That’s my house, the girl says happily.
   You’re driving into town. You’re finally reaching your destination. As you suspected no pub or inn is open at this time and hour and you set the course to your friends house. You notice that the lights are on, are still on, and are drawing deep breaths of relief. Your friend have been very patient, you hope you can make it up to him someday.
   The courtyard is lit. Even so, you still almost miss it. The fog is both in the air and your eyes. You’re tired. It’s been a long drive.
   Your friend is meeting you in the yard. He’s not wearing a jacket, a fact you find strange. It’s after all not the hottest of summer nights. Oh, well, he’s not planning on spending any extended time out here tonight, and neither are you.
   - Nice drive, eh... He’s grinning at you.
   - An excellent drive, you’re returning the grin.- I want to do it every night.
   - Well, I’m just glad I can invite you in, finally. You’re shaking hands
   - I met a girl tonight, I‘ve invited her to tea. I hope it’s allright.
   Your friend is nodding, it’s okay. Of course.
   He’s leading the way inside. You’re stopping a bit, to allow the girl to enter before you. The house’ warmth is embracing you all. Inside the living room the fire is burning in the hearth, fog is floating in the dry air.
   - You’re gonna love this, you say loud.- I brought a mobile phone with me. Since I haven’t been able to contact you the last day or so, I feared all your lines are acting up.
   - Nothing wrong with our phones, but there has been problematic calling outside the village.
   The tea is boiling hot. You’re sitting in a deep chair, taking the first sip. Even if you can hear the distinct sound of both the wind and the rain outside the warmth of the house is starting to sink in.
   - It sure is wet and windy outside, isn’t it.
   - It’s been like that for some time now, your friend says shrugging.
   - The house sure is solid material, you say impressed.- Trees are bending outside and it’s hardly affecting it at all.
   - I’m glad you came, your friend is saying.- You’re the first from the old bunch who are visiting me.
   - I’m the first? You cry out excitedly.- I thought I was four or fifth or something.
   - You’re the first visiting me here, he says with a strange look on his face.    The fireplace is casting its glow all over the living room. You’re still feeling the dreaded fog, but now its mixed with the heat torching your limbs. Your friend is smiling.
   - So you finally bought a cell phone, eh?
   - I told you, you’re scowling at him.- It was a matter of circumstance.- I had to make sure I could call out of here.
   The girl is sitting in her chair, smiling at you. She’s not saying much. Not so strange really. After spending most of an chilly, wet evening walking a long walk along the road, it’s not so strange that she’s somewhat content to just enjoy the heat of the fire, of other people’s company.
   - We hardly ever get visitors anymore, she say.
   - But you’re not really backward these days, are you?
   - Backward? Your friend is shaking his head.- No, not at all! This is a modern village, but we do not get many visitors here anymore.
   - It is kinda modern, the girl says in a husky voice.- We’ve got computers, the latest communication technology, the works, but it’s still not fully the 20th century.
   - You mean the 21st century, of course, you’re chiding.
   - Of course, the girl replies.
   - Of course, your friend replies. a bit stiff.
   You pull a bit back in your chair, enjoying the conversation.
   - It’s all about appearances anyway, isn’t it? The human brain is an amazing instrument. It can create any reality we would want, and help us avoiding the more unpleasant aspects of it.
   - I don’t think instrument is quite the right word, the girl is smiling to you,- but I basically agree with the sentiment.
   Your friend says nothing.
   - You know how it is, right? you’re continuing eagerly.- We’re inventing our own reality all the time. We’re pretending we’re not strangers to the world, pretending we’re not stumbling on, in a semblance of walk.
   - Says the man, pouring on his version of reality, your friend is saying mockingly mocking.
   And you manage a sitting bow.    - Don’t we all? says the girl.
   There is much, much laughter.
   - And the roads around here stinks, the girl says.
   - The roads stink, you agree vehemently.- They give new meaning to the word «bumpy».
   - It’s just a temporary thing, your friend insists.- The Storm turned some stones, that’s all.
   And the storm continues to pick up outside. But good food, good vine and the safety of the thick walls, the joy of good company, are leading you to enjoy the evening regardless.
   And the evening moves on.
   There’s music. Your friend has this incredible elaborate system built into the walls, something he had always wanted, but couldn’t afford.
   - Music, a fine new house and all. Your arms are indicating your pleasant surroundings.- Did you win in the lottery or something?
   - I wanted to get away from all that, you know that, your friend replies.- Sometimes everything is better with less, that’s all. Focus... is turned towards what really matters.
   A draft is stroking against your back... Or is that down your spine? You’re having another sip of vine. This is just your second glass and your not planning on having more. This is nothing of the usual drinking contest party, but a pleasant evening with friends. The vine is burning pleasantly in your stomach, that’s all.
   - Time sure is flying, you say.- I thought about driving down here last year, or even the year before that. I sensed an urgency in your voice this time around, though, an urgency I also felt in myself. Funny, huh?
   - It is urgent, your friend says.
   - Does everyone get so weird after living here just a few years, you’re jokingly asking the girl.
   - This is nothing. You should see the rest of the people here. They’re truly nuts.
   Did the girl say that, or your friend?
   - The Storm is really shaking things up tonight, she says.- Moving the Earth, Changing Reality itself.
   - I’ve never really thought about it that way, you’re stating in a reflecting manner.
   - What have you never thought about? your friend is asking in a strange manner.
   - About storms as a metaphor for disturbances in our concept of Reality, you’re saying to your evidently absentminded friend.- I mean, nothing really changes during a storm, does it? Trees and houses are roughed up a bit, but then everything is returning to normal. Normality is obviously the stable course of events.
   Your friend is looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes.
   - Didn’t some scientist... Heisenberg, wasn’t it, state, with his uncertainty principle, that it was the other way around, that reality is really quite unstable, that it’s an accident waiting to happen?
   Your friend is looking really weird then.
   - Didn’t he... also state that «God isn’t playing dice with the universe»?
   - Nope. The girl is shaking her head.- That was Einstein. I believe Heisenberg was more realistic...
   - That was Einstein, your friend is confirming quite unnecessary.
   The tea tastes good. It’s a different kind of tea, one you can’t remember having tasted before. You want to ask your host, your friend, what brand it is, but you don’t. The opportunity never seem to present itself. You’re quite engaged in the conversation, in your company, the friend and the girl. Engaged in ways you could hardly imagine until tonight.
   It isn’t just a matter of enjoying the curve of the girl’s breasts, the feral sensuality of her being.
   It goes far beyond that.
   You’re forced to excuse yourself and go to the bathroom.
   - Too much tea, you’re joking.
   There’s not much of an ongoing conversation while you’re away. You’re looking out from the bathroom while peeing, and your friend and the girl is just sitting there, enjoying their tea. Well, perhaps they do not know each other, after all. The village isn’t that small and your friend hasn’t stayed here that long, and they’re of an entirely different age group. You, yourself, are probably the glue tying them to each other, keeping the conversation, the party going.
   You’re washing your hands afterwards, cleaning the clean fluid from your skin. There is a mirror above the sink. Looking into it, at your own mirror image, is giving you a strange feeling inside. It’s as if... you can’t see yourself in the mirror. You’re shaking your head, returning to the party in the living room.
   The Storm is shaking the house then, making it screech and howl. The Storm or the house? you’re asking yourself.
   - Ouch! you’re exclaiming. The two others are not forthcoming in their comments.
   Sometimes you feel right at home here, more at home than anywhere else, ever before. And then there are moments like this, with quite an awkward silence.
   - I’d like to go home, now, please. You're drowning in the layer upon layer of her eyes, her presence.
   - Of course, you’re saying.
   - Of course what? the man in the sofa is asking.
   A strange girl, a strange place. Layers upon layers of complexity. You kinda like it.
   - I have to take a drive, you tell your friend.- I’ll be back shortly.
   Your friend is nodding.
   - That’s quite okay. What about a late dinner when you return?
   - A splendid suggestion, you’re exclaiming.- Let’s burn the midnight oil, shall we?
   There’s laughter. There’s an echo, but there’s still laughter.

   CONTINUED