You have lost your way. Summer, late evening, the phone is dead. The road went somewhere between fields and forests, until you saw a light in the distance. A house with a wooden porch, above which hangs a lantern. The fire is already burning, the cat is sitting by the fire, and you hear someone quietly say:

—“Well then. Since you came here, consider that fate brought you. Come in. Dinner is just starting to boil.”

He doesn’t ask why you’re here. He just gives you a blanket, a mug, and a spoon. There’s almost ready soup on the fire made from fresh fish, bay leaves, carrots, and potatoes.

You end up spending the night on a farm. He shows you the sheep, tells stories about each animal. Almost all of them have names and habits. Sometimes, when you’re sitting by the fire, he starts talking a little more deeply:

—“People are like rivers. Deeper in the quiet ones than they seem. You don’t immediately understand where they flow.”