‘He was a philosophy student, and we had some classes together. Did I tell you I began my studies in philosophy before switching to medicine? At that age, I believed it was the great thinkers who had solved the problem of living in the world. Of course, I was wrong. My classmate had a change of heart, as well, apparently. When I inquired about him, I was told he’d left the university. I never thought anything about it, not for years. But after talking with my old school friends, I began to wonder what happened to him.’

During this rambling monologue Vidor experienced an odd sensation at the back of his skull. He shifted in the chair to look at the snow spinning from the sky. In the overheated room, the smell of almonds was nauseating. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, but when he thought about wiping it away, he couldn’t move his arms. If he could just close his eyes for a minute… but when he did, the falling snow outside the window was replaced by the heat of a merciless sun, beating down from a copper sky.

As he scuffed along a narrow street, his leather sandals kicked up clouds of dust. In the distance, a slash of blue water gleamed on the horizon. His throat burned with thirst and he sought in vain a sliver of shade to rest in. As a plaintive call wafted through the air, shopkeepers covered their wares, and women hurried home through the streets, their straw bags filled with onions and mint, and raw meat wrapped in paper.

‘Where are you now?’

The voice drifted towards him across a desert of space and time. The dusty street wavered and faded away. The blue water vanished. A man strode down the street. His black hair slicked back, his jaw clenched in anger. He ran after the man, but he was too weak to catch him. Abi, entadr. Hadha ana. Father, wait. It’s me. Without bothering to glance back, the man ducked into an alley and disappeared.

‘Vidor? It’s all right. You’re safe here.’

The sun scorched his face, the stones burned his feet. He had forgotten to buy the onions and olive oil the old woman needed, and now the market was closed. Tears ran down his face.

‘Vidor?’

He opened his eyes, rubbed the side of his head. Where was he? Ah yes, the clinic. The snow falling fast. And seated across from him, his nemesis Gessen, whose eyes bored into his very soul.

‘I must have dozed off for a moment,’ Vidor said. He brushed the crumbs from his lap. Had he eaten one of the biscuits? Perhaps they were laced with some kind of hallucinogen. He wouldn’t put it past Gessen. Anything to trip him up. He rubbed his eyes. ‘I haven’t been sleeping well lately.’