Once upon a time I lived in a flat in a high, high apartment building. There were many people living close together and there was a lot of peeking through the mail slot and the keyholes, everybody knowing everything about everyone. One day when I saw it was a sunny day I took my walking-stick and just left, never to return. It was kind of a gamble I know, but what do I really have to loose at my age? I wanted something new, something free. I walked to the L store and bought myself a tent. I crossed the river and on the green field I put it up. This was about to be my new home I thought. I was highly mistaken. The police came and put me in a house for elderly who lost their marbles. One could indisputably say that this home is not my idea of freedom. On the other hand, the poor fellows I now share my life with, hasn’t got wits enough to peek through any keyholes.