Someone devoured my heart. Death always keeps a souvenir.

Always follow the clues in dreams.

Even when they're terrifying?

Especially when they're terrifying.

To ward off fear forever.

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And now?

Now, we leave.

Away from this sadness?

Yes, all together.

On the streets. The deserted city. On the road, to the forest.

Is this a dream?

It's a journey. Coming?

Yes.

Is there something in our drinks? I feel strange all of a sudden. Nothing remains. Nothing but the night.

But the seven of us are hand in hand. No longer afraid. We have sailed seas. Crossed continents. We are old castaways. And time has stopped tonight.

Are we immortal?

All of us.

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We're among friends here, I feel them. The departed.

I feel them too. They're hiding in the trees. Entire forests of ghost trees.

All we have to do is call their names.

Three times.

Three times in a row, and they appear.

From deep in the forest.

Just for a few seconds.

Long enough for a word.

Long enough for a kiss.

Long enough for a blowjob.

Long enough for a memory, reenacted in the cinema, shimmering on the silver screen.

Then they disappear forever.

They can return only once.

After, nothing more of them remains.
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