It snowed. It was cold outside, so you hurriedly put on a hat. You should go home.

After walking down the alley, you came to the same place where you were. It's weird. After leaving again, you came back to the same place. Tried to go the other way - nothing changed, you were in the same place.

"Hey you," said the street musician with black sunglasses and red hair. “Why are you shufflin’ around for?”

"I... I can't get home." you said in a trembling voice, not understanding anything. The man shook his head sympathetically, stopping his guitar playing.

"I see... Life can be hard..." he began, but you cut him off.

“No, not in that sense.” you said, adjusting the hat on your head. “I can't get home... Physically.”

The man looked at you in disbelief, and you immediately showed him the paradox. He was surprised.

"It's strange..." he said, rubbing his chin. “What's your name?”

You are stuck on this question. You didn't know your name. You did not remember yourself, your past, how you ended up on this street.

“I... I don't remember...” you said and went to the street ashtray, lit a cigarette and smoked, wanting to calm down.

The angel's sympathetic gaze was hidden behind the dark lenses of the sunglasses. He was sad because such a good person like you died. However, he will not give free rein to his emotions. Its purpose is to make you remember yourself and your past. And he will do everything to help you.