There was a dark rider pursuing me, down the hill, gaining, spitting as he came on his black wheels, clutching a scroll for some reason. As he closed he called.

“I have your name here.”

“Who, mine? No, I made a deal.”

The shadow was beside me, just in view, attempting to pass on the left.

“Your name is here. You are supposed to come with me.”

“It's not time yet. I made a deal. I have things to do, other lives to safeguard. Go away,“

He looked perplexed, less self assured all of a sudden.

“Go back and check,” I told him.

Suddenly he was gone. The slope at Schwani beckoned. The sun’s light jumped from the lake to the remnants of Versailles wall to the placards and signs at the top that describe the history of this corner. I completed the circle at the end, gladly descended back towards where he had materialised and now was nothing, not even an emotional shroud in the air. It was Spring and I was in Berlin, heading for home.