Prologue

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"Everyone is necessarily the hero of his owen life story."

~John Barth~

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It was dark outside. The wind blew and somewhere on a tree an owl was hooting. It was cold. There was a small cottage at the edge of the forest. A little girl was crying and light turned on in one of the rooms.

In the house a woman went to the crib.

"Hey sweatheart. What's wrong?" She whispered. "Everything is okay. Dad will be home soon." she murmured and started to hum a lullaby.

The baby soon fall back asleep. The house became silent. And that night a long journey had begun.

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