Travelling alone, riding a cross-country train into the darkness of evening, enraptured by music and by story, I experience a strange feeling that something is different, something has fundamentally changed. Wrapped up in fantasies, I revel in what pathetic part of my wanderlust I am allowed to exorcise.

But yet, nothing has changed. I go home, I make dinner, tomorrow I get up and have breakfast and drive to work. How strange, then, that my brain seems convinced otherwise…