That evening I was scared to death. It seemed that the dark had taken away every drop of life from the city. It was like I was the only living creature on Earth. In the sky, the moon was staring at me, watching my every move, following me as my steps leaved marks in the snow. It was freezing cold, I could see the warm air leaving my mouth and melting in the cold night. I could hear the wind blowing, bending the trees and threathening to pick me up and carry me along with what was left of the leaves. I could hear every step I was making, and the noise was so loud and the silence was so deep... I was alone... All alone... No soul at the horison. On both sides of the road there were houses. And trees. And bushes. The cars were all waiting, hidden in garages, like they were afraid to go out. But what were they afraid of? Was this deserted city so scarry, this silence so deep and this dark so thick?

        As I was looking around me, searching for a living creature, a cold drop touched my nose. And then another one. And soon the sky filled with snowflakes, so many that I was afraid that they were going to burry me alive.

        As the layer of snow started to get thicker with every passing moment, I hastened my steps, trying to escape the eerie landscape, to find the safety of my room, to be protected from the heavy snow by my roof.

        Yes, in moments like that I needed protection, I needed somebody to take me in its arms and tell me that everything is allright. Even if we both know that it's not going to be so. That sweet illusion of safety can be so comforting sometimes. Pitty that it goes away as soon as you open your eyes and you wake up to the cruel reality! It always calmed me! That welcomed escape in the enormous lands of daydreaming. When I went there I could let my problems outside, at the gates, forget everything and be happy. But unfortunately I had to take back what I left at the gates. And, honestly, I don't know what's better: finding comfort in daydreaming, escaping there so often, and slowly loosing the connection with reality or living every single day with my worst nightmare scratching my front door: myneighbour's puddel.