— The first time it happened was on the night of December 14th to 15th last year. The usual workday was coming to an end. At six in the evening, I left the office; it was already dark. I remember it was snowing mixed with rain — the typical miserable December weather. The city center was "lit up" with New Year decorations, shop windows lured customers with Christmas discounts, and in Boston Common, everyone admired the large decorated tree. All these prelude to the New Year brought me no joy, just like the holiday itself. As was my custom, I headed to the "Time Out" bar to have a couple of drinks. I spent the entire evening at the bar, staring at my phone and then at the television. Quite interesting evenings I had, right?! — John looked at his listeners with sadness in his eyes. — I returned home late, as my lonely apartment was driving me crazy and draining my last positive thoughts. Having had a decent amount to drink, I left for home just before the bar closed. I caught a taxi and made my way to my address. I vaguely remember what I did at home, but I definitely opened a bottle of whiskey and turned on "Cranberries." Soon, I fell asleep.

  John paused to take one last drag and extinguish his cigarette. With admirable focus, Nussier and Said listened to John, hardly moving — seemingly painting pictures of the city from the "American Dream." Maurice looked at John questioningly, clearly indicating that he was waiting for a translation into French. John quickly translated the last part of his monologue and promised Maurice that he would now translate in parallel to keep up.

  — The next morning, instead of my modest little apartment, I woke up by the railway, not far from the city of Monterrey, which is in Mexico. Silence hung in the air. John felt as if he could catch it with his hands, as if it had materialized in the form of dense air.

  — Meaning what? How did you get there? Did you drink so much that you don't remember how you ended up there? — Nussier asked with complete seriousness.

  — Yes, that used to happen to me quite often. After football matches, my friends and I would get so drunk that once I woke up on a haystack in a village that was about fifty kilometers from Lille! Ah… those were the days… — Maurice smiled, fondly recalling the parties of his youth.

  — Moritz, could you please give me another cigarette? — John asked, realizing that they were in for a long conversation. — Yes, Nussier, I thought the same as soon as I opened my eyes. But when I saw that I was only wearing my underwear and a t-shirt, with no other belongings at all, I concluded that I had been robbed and taken to another state, since the weather was warm. Strangely enough, there was no hint of a hangover, which hadn't happened to me since my college days. On the contrary, I felt very good, fresh, and energetic, as if I were at a resort rather than in a bar. As I made my way along the tracks to the train station, I realized where I was, but I had no idea how I got there.

  — Who kidnapped you? — Said asked with a serious expression.

  — Nobody kidnapped me. Just listen, don't interrupt! — John replied irritably. — The first thing I did was go to the police to report my kidnapping and the theft of my belongings. At the station, nobody spoke English well, and I waited in the reception area for several hours until a staff member who knew the language arrived. I remember a lot of different thoughts swirling in head, but amusingly, what upset me the most in that situation was that I would miss work, get fired, and my already "not-so-sweet" life would spiral completely out of control. I can't believe I was such a fool! — John laughed cheerfully, but quickly realized that his sarcasm went unappreciated, and he continued his story. — A police officer came who was able to interrogate me and take my statement. Then I was offered to either stay at the police station or be released on a pledge not to leave the city. Of course, I decided to stay! Where would I go in just my underwear and a t-shirt, without money or documents? Besides, it was safe there, and there was a water cooler. I hoped that the police would contact the U.S. consulate and provide me with assistance to return home. But hours went by, and nothing happened. The police were all busy with their routine tasks, brushing me off with the words: "Please wait, your case is being handled." I had no choice, and I waited. I was allowed to make one international call. I called my boss and told him that I was sick, as I didn't even know what had happened to me and couldn't come up with anything better. Thus the whole day went by. By evening, I was informed that I could spend the night there; they handed me a blanket and led me to a cell. "What a wonderful trip to Mexico!" I thought at that moment. Hoping that everything would be resolved by tomorrow, I settled onto the bunk in the cell and wanted to fall asleep as quickly as possible. And that’s exactly what happened soon after. Nothing has been resolved yet. In the morning, I woke up on the snow-covered roof of a house in Norway. Once again in my underwear and t-shirt. John paused in his story to gauge the reaction of his listeners.

  — I don't understand anything, how were you able to cover such a distance? — asked Maurice.

  — Is Norway far from Mexico? — Saeed asked with a childlike expression on his face. John and Maurice simultaneously looked at him as if he were a hardened underachiever. Nusser said nothing, apparently processing the incredible information for him.

  — Far away, Said. Listen further, soon everything will become clear, as much as that is possible. There, on the roof, I thought it was just a dream, and that it would all be over soon. I even felt a bit reassured by this thought, constantly telling myself, "It's just a dream. I'll wake up soon! Nothing terrible is happening!" It was cold, and the Norwegian snow burned my skin so much that thoughts of sleep gradually surrendered their positions, yielding to the reality I was not ready to accept. Not wanting to wait for frostbite to set in, I hurried to find the entrance to the house, on the roof of which I had "landed." I quickly found the door, and a tiny old woman opened it for me, kindly inviting me inside without any unnecessary questions. She brought a blanket and put the kettle on. The elderly woman said that I was in the suburbs of the city of Shein. I remember her face… she resembled a classic grandmother from the movies of my childhood… Big glasses, curlers, a smile with dentures, always wearing an apron. All that was missing was a pie in her hands and for her to call me her grandson. In general, I tried to tell her everything as it is, asked her to call the police and... a doctor... I started to wonder if I might have some kind of illness related to memory lapses or if I was just losing my mind altogether. The police arrived quite quickly, followed by an ambulance. Naturally, no one believed me. The police officer documented everything I said, not hiding his smirk. The doctor conducted a general examination and declared me completely healthy. Their indifference to my problem infuriated me! I began to explain very emotionally that I was telling the truth and that I urgently needed to get to the USA! The police officer tried to calm me down, but I could no longer control myself. Rage from helplessness and the incomprehension of what was happening completely took over me! In fact, it’s quite difficult to get me riled up, but when it happens, it’s like the “curtains close,” and I don’t understand what I’m doing! It all ended with me being restrained and handcuffed. And their fatal mistake was that the doctor injected me with a sedative or sleeping pill; I never quite understood which. I felt weak, and they lifted me under my arms and dragged me to the ambulance. The last thing I remember is the flickering lights in the vehicle and the doctor hovering over me. And what do you think happened next? John took several big gulps of water from the iron mug that Saeed had given him.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  — Have you been placed in a psychiatric hospital? — Saeed smiled.

  — No. He woke up in another place again... — Nusyer said thoughtfully. John snapped his fingers and pointed his index finger at Nusiere.

  — Exactly, Nussier! Where did you get so smart?! — he exclaimed, delighted for his friend.

  — That's nonsense! Are you trying to say that you travel to different countries every morning? — Maurice exclaimed, nervously lighting a cigarette.

  — No. It's not necessary every morning. I mean, I wake up in the morning in an absolutely random place, anywhere on our planet. And this happens every time after I fall asleep.

  — That's nonsense! It's impossible! Do you take us for fools? I followed you for this nonsense? You've disappointed me, John! You could have come up with something more believable! — Maurice was furious and clearly losing his composure.

  — Please, listen to me until the end! Then I will answer all the questions I have answers to. It was important for John to convey his entire story to the end, as the seller of flatbreads and his statement kept lingering in his mind...

  — Go on, John. I want to believe you, even though it seems absolutely insane! — Nussier said in a disturbingly calm voice.

  — After my brief trip to Norway, I opened my eyes, and my first reaction was hysterical laughter! I couldn't believe it had happened again. On one hand, I didn't understand what was going on and how to return to my normal life. On the other hand, this adventure completely transformed my dreary existence, adding color and infusing it with a powerful sense of intrigue and adventure. I woke up among trash bins in some alley. The weather was chilly, around zero degrees. Nearby, there were a few homeless people and a couple of dogs. They stared at me with wide eyes, as if they had seen an alien. It was understandable: it’s not every day that a person appears out of nowhere in just underwear and a t-shirt. I kept believing that this was just a dream and that it would all be over soon. Just a moment ago, I was in snowy Norway – and now I find myself in a completely different place with a different climate. It's incredible! "Well, since this is a dream, I'll do whatever I want! Maybe then I'll wake up," I gathered my courage and resolutely jumped to my feet. Stepping outside, I headed to the nearest bar with the intention of having a good drink. Although I had no idea how I would pay for it. But this is a dream, I thought, so anything goes! From the signs on the buildings, I realized I was in the Czech Republic. The Gothic architecture, the gloomy December weather, and the images of beer mugs on every corner confirmed my suspicions. When I entered the pub, you won’t believe it – no one even batted an eye at my appearance! Sure, I caught a couple of sideways glances, but nothing more. The patrons looked me up and down and went back to drinking their beer as if nothing was amiss. Settling down at the bar, I ordered a beer and a J?germeister. I drank. Then I repeated it. And then again. Feeling quite tipsy, I started chatting up the bartender and the people next to me at the bar. They turned out to be interesting and friendly guys. We talked for quite a while about various topics, laughed, and drank. From our conversations, I gathered that I was in Prague. When they asked me why I was dressed so strangely, I began to tell them the whole story. Of course, no one took my tale seriously; they merely noted my vivid imagination and praised me for the accurate details. After a while, I remembered that I had no way to pay. But since I thought this was all unreal and was already quite drunk, I was ready for any recklessness. Asking the bartender for a cigarette, I stepped outside under the pretense of having a smoke. The bartender kindly handed me a blanket, and I walked away. Once outside, I lit the cigarette and simply strolled down the cobblestone street of the Czech town. I was in a wonderful mood, and I was definitely starting to enjoy my dream. Realizing that I could do almost anything, I felt an incredible high of freedom! And what did I do next? Spellbound, Maurice, Nussier, and Said could not utter a word; they could only nod inquiringly. Of course, I headed to the next bar, which was on another street. I repeated all my actions, but this time I ordered some food for myself. That day, four or five establishments fell victim to my antics. There might have been more, but I got so drunk that I no longer understood where I was. And when I was denied entry to yet another pub, I simply wandered around the city, scaring passing tourists. I vaguely remember which bench I fell asleep on, but that happened when it was already starting to get dark. John finished his story about the Czech Republic, and a silence fell over the gazebo so profound that one could hear the random thuds of insects against the lamp hanging above the center of the table. John took another sip of water and waited for questions from his listeners. But they seemed to be in a trance from the American's detailed account and appeared to be starting to believe his incredible tale.

  — I would like to try that too. Free food and drinks! But I probably wouldn't have the courage — Said was the first to "wake up."

  — Sa?d, I wouldn't have done that either if I had understood back then that this was all reality — John replied.

  — So, you were waking up on the next day of the month? At least you figured that out? — Maurice asked.

  — Yes, I was in the Czech Republic on December seventeenth. I usually wake up at different times, but between seven and eleven in the morning. Here, I opened my eyes around ten in the morning. I think only in Prague can people start drinking beer at the beginning of eleven.

  — It's incredible that I'm asking these questions. What you're telling me is absolutely impossible! — Maurice convinced himself.

  — I myself couldn't believe it for a long time, even though everything was absolutely real. At times, I doubted my sanity, as I was living an ordinary life with the most common sensations and surroundings, yet my travels were utterly fantastic. In general, it took me a long time to get used to it.

  — Well, have you tried reaching out to someone for help? Perhaps to doctors? Or to scientists? Have there been similar cases in history? — Nussier asked logical questions.

  — Yes, I got to it the very next morning. But on that day, December seventeenth, I sowed the seeds of hedonism, which would dictate my actions for the next three weeks. I really enjoyed the feeling of freedom and pleasure I experienced in Prague, as well as the impunity of my actions. I considered this new 'gift' to be my reward for the wretched life I had lived 'before.' Therefore, I felt I should take full advantage of it. However, I wasn’t in a hurry to implement my plans, as I wasn’t sure this 'gift' wouldn’t disappear just as suddenly as it had appeared. Even now, I don’t know if I will wake up tomorrow in a different place, or if everything will come to an end here, in Sudan…

  — So what happened the next day? — Maurice asked eagerly.

  — The next morning, I woke up in a pleasant natural atmosphere. Opening my eyes, I saw an abundance of greenery around me; the large tree canopies hovered above so closely, as if they were surprised by my presence and were observing me from above. Numerous vines on the trees indicated that I was somewhere in the tropics, and it was quite warm despite it being morning. But I was immediately alerted by the strong smell of manure, clearly of animal origin.