I never lived in a place so silent before. I never lived in a village so far outside a city before. I never had a neighbor who opens the beer cans with his anterior teeth before. Quick and sharp are his teeth and perfectly silent without any spill he opens one can after another. I tend to forget if it is a Monday or Thursday coming next. When I look across the room and see the old wooden long case clock it is always half past four. In truth the time is here an old grey cat, barely moving and just waiting for nothing more to come. When I go outside the door, the air is sharp and cold, the sea is black and deep, the trees are old and move their branches in a scoffingly way towards me, because they know there is nothing but silence to find, despite the seagulls shrieking over our heads. I went to the opera house with many men and women too, before. But I never went to a concert before with a man who did not even ask reluctantly for a drink, but not even asked at all. I said good- bye to many men and woman too, but I never went to a concert with a man before, who just turned away not even shake hands for a second and not even looking back for half a second. I went often home alone but never so silent. In the night the silence sits close by my bed, crawls under my blanket and won’t leave till we both have ice- cold feet.