I bent over to pick up a small piece of ancient ceramic and ran back to the car.At home, incense sticks that slowly burned here and there comforted me. I stared through my window pane.No one was waiting for me. I breathed deep.My friend mused her worries over the cellphone; she knew I would listen to her.We laughed recalling our late trips to the library on fridays. Now all that seemed to be very far away.Time was running too fast.I told her how I had felt his gaze on me, then a shudder while turning my head away.She seemed to be more relieved than I was.A far-off clanking noise, likely a neighbour's work in progress.I woke up late into the morning.We learned that the old farm had burned to ashes. Peasants believed that the Elf Woman kept living in the area.We planned our getaway, aware that we would never make it.