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When you hear the words "science fiction",

you might think of Flash Gordon, or Space Patrol Orion.

But surely not of tranquil Switzerland.

Our guest tonight has written a novel set in the Swiss Alps,

And it's the most fantastic tale.

A warm welcome for Johannes Leinert!

Mr Leinert, you're 44 years old.

You're the grandson of the famous shipping magnate J. Martin Leinert.

You studied at the Institute of Theoretical Physics in Hamburg.

You never took your doctorate,

but you've written this fantastic novel:

"The Theory of Everythingâ€.

How did that come about?

First of all,

this isn't science fiction.

It's not a fantasy novel at all.

Unfortunately the publisher insisted on issuing it as a novel.

But it is a mysterious story!

The youth of today would say, "psychedelic" or "far out"!

So there's this congress in the Swiss Alps...

Then maybe, a conspiracy of mysterious men.

Of course there's a woman, too.

Is it a love story too?

It's not a story.

So the main character in the novel is you?

You're the young physicist? You came up with this...

...many-worlds theory? - The multiverse.

Right. Could you explain what that means?

So modern physics is based on

the Standard Interpretation of quantum mechanics.

Max Born, Nils Bohr, Schrödinger etc.

I'm sure we all remember them from our physics lessons!

You see...

in the end, it's all about this:

what world are we living in?

Is this...

Is this...

this world, in which I'm here with you having written this book,

is this the only real world?

Or might there be others?

Parallel worlds, where things might have gone differently.

You're saying you might be living in a different world from us?

No.

I assure you, these chairs exist in this world right here.

I can't vouch for anything else.

I don't think this was a good idea.

Karin.

If you're watching this,

wherever you are, contact me.

Sit down, Mr Leinert. - No, I...

Wait a moment, Mr Leinert.

Well, Mr Leinert is off back to his own world.

Nice of him to drop by in ours.

12 years earlier...

Canton of the Grisons, Switzerland

Johnny!

Johnny!

Susi!

Johnny!

Susi!

Johnny!

Susi!

Susi.

We're locked in.

Look.

Johnny.

Johnny. Don't.

THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING

Johannes!

Johannes.

The doctor's waiting.

Be nice and make an effort. And try to focus.

Doctor Leinert. - No doctor yet.

That Minna's running around telling everyone you're engaged.

Is that true?

She's crazy.

If you say so. Fine.

Thank you so much, Dr Strathen, for taking on my useless son.

Johannes, shall we?

Stuck-up idiot.

Got everything?

Yes, mum. - Take this.

Granddad already gave me money. - Then keep this for later.

I'll give it back. - Once you're earning properly.

Don't miss your train.

Johannes!

Wait!

Wait to open it on the train.

INVITATION

Dr Sharam Amiri

hereby invites you to the Physics Congress in the Swiss Alps,

to reveal a groundbreaking theory in quantum mechanics.

Silence.

I'm trying to read your paper.

Next stop: Munich - Pasing!

Ssshh.

Get away from the window. Away from the window!

What is it?

Julius! - Heinrich.

You travelled in specially from America?

I've been back since '55. - I see.

Johannes Leinert. How do you do?

One of my students.

So young. And already so unknown.

Dr Blumberg is Professor of Physics at Göttingen.

Julius, call me Henry, please.

Henry Blumberg.

Your supervisor and I served together

under Heisenberg at Leipzig.

Are you...

Are you both on your way to the Swiss mountains too?

Yes, but I'm not invited, I'm just tagging along.

Mr Leinert is working on his dissertation.

He's been at it for two years. To almost no effect.

A student is only as good as his teacher.

If you ever need a second pair of eyes, Mr Leinert...

What he certainly doesn't need is yet more metaphysical rubbish.

I see.

Certainly thinks highly of himself,

this Iranian fellow.

I've been asking around about him.

Or trying to, at least.

No one knows him.

One publication I managed to find.

And? - Haven't read it.

This says he's up for a Nobel prize.

Who hasn't been?

"...relationship between the mass, spin

and charge of elementary particles..."

It gets better! Keep going!

"...resolving all contradictions

of conventional quantum mechanics."

A Theory of Everything.

Leinert, Leinert... One moment, please.

I have here Professor Strathen,

and Professor Blumberg, but...

no Mr Leinert, I regret to say.

My secretary booked the rooms.

Two rooms, explicitly.

Heil Hitler! - Johnny!

Please forgive me.

He's the manager's grandson.

Thinks he can get away with anything.

No, I'm very sorry.

Must have been a booking error.

Clearly by you.

Inconceivable. Good day to you.

Gentlemen, gentlemen...

There's no need for an argument.

To your satisfaction?

Of course.

Wonderful.

Johannes. What's this?

It's in the Hilbert space. It works.

It's all probabilistic drivel.

"Parallel eigenstates of multiple observers"?

If this is your thesis, kiss your career goodbye.

No, that's the whole point.

Look. That's the expectation value...

Have you tried to work through the Fourier series?

At least 300 times.

Then make it 400. You've missed something.

We can agree on that, can't we?

I promised your grandfather that I would take care of you.

I will keep my word.

We'll make a doctor of you yet.

NO.

NEVER!

DERIVATION?

WHAT ON EARTH?!

What are you doing here?

Sorry.

You look like you've seen a ghost.

My name's Johannes.

What's yours?

Ladies and gentlemen...

I regret to inform you

that due to complications in emigration,

Dr Sharam Amiri will be unable to join us as scheduled.

We'll stay. I have another week off, and you have plenty to do.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, at the piano,

Miss Hönig with the Royal Street Jazz Band.

Good evening.

Johannes!

Why are you not at your desk?

You filthy bohemian.

You useless animal.

Up to your room, at once! Waiter!

Wait!

Was he really nominated for a Nobel prize?

That was long ago. Best keep away from him.

Coming!

I was expecting someone else entirely.

What's that?

I wanted to... - Ah! Here she is!

Come, Mr Leinert.

Go on, take the money!

And what is that supposed to be?

The superposition.

Which brings me to the universal wavefunction.

You see?

Hm. You want to get from Schrödinger to this?

I know it's going to work.

Would you look at that.

I see.

"Its state changes according to..."

"It is valid to interpret this

"as the many worlds

"that are the inevitable result."

Well, well, well.

Fuck me.

So? What do you think?

Mr Leinert.

What can I say?

This here...

This here...

This could prove to be groundbreaking.

I can smell it.

How did you come up with it?

I dreamt it.

Or...

something like that.

It was there, all of a sudden. And I know it's right.

It's just missing...

"some technical details."

Pauli also said,

"That's not only not right, it's not even wrong."

You know that feeling?

You wake up in the morning with some insight,

and you just know it's true.

Almost as if...

you'd seen into another world,

where the proof already exists.

Mr Leinert.

I can understand your supervisor's objections.

There are ideas in here.

When I was a student with big ideas,

your supervisor would glare at me and say,

"Shut up."

Shut up,

and calculate.

Do you know why your supervisor can't stand me?

No.

I stole his girl back when we were at university.

Else was his fiancée. And then my wife.

But it all turned out well. We're still married.

Actually he ought to be grateful.

Let's just say she hasn't got any prettier over the years.

No, Sir!

She's horrifically fat.

Whenever I look at her I need some bread on the side.

Stay single, that's my advice.

They were my best years.

Concentrate on this.

Inspiration first, then women.

Never vice versa.

Is that right?

Johannes, what you have here...

Once you're done, we'll take it to old Bohr

and wreck his life's work.

I'm serious. Find another topic.

But that's my topic. - It's esoteric babble.

It's just not finished. - Blumberg hasn't seen it, has he?

Julius! There you are.

We've been looking for you everywhere.

I've long wanted to introduce you to Dr Koch, from Argentina.

Heard a lot about you, Dr Strathen.

And most importantly: Baroness Edita Fedorovna Yusupova.

Fyodorovna. Good evening.

My dear friends.

This young man here is working on something very significant.

The Theory of the Universal Wavefunction.

And I don't think I exaggerate

when I say we have here a future Nobel Laureate.

I was just speaking with Dr Koch.

Martin, if I may.

He is in possession of some first-rate substances

derived from Claviceps purpurea.

So? Feel anything yet?

I don't know...

Some tingling?

Were you aware, Mr Leinert, that your doctoral supervisor

once took LSD with Ernst Jünger?

To open up his third eye?

No, I was not aware.

He even appears as a character, I believe,

in "Visit to Godenholmâ€.

The cynic. The sceptic.

"And yet he did appear,

"eager to attune himself

"to this whirl of darkness and light.

"To embrace it,

"to dissolve into it entirely."

Is that true?

It was mostly

intensive perceptions of colour,

and Oriental fantasies.

I'd ask that in future

you refrain from meddling in others' work.

This is a draft of a purely speculative doctoral dissertation.

None of it is remotely verifiable.

No call for a professor from the boondocks to butt in.

Professor from the boondocks?

My dear Dr Strathen,

it is imperative

that I butt in, where ephemeral, perhaps revolutionary ideas...

What we are dealing with here is real inspiration!

But your supervisor won't grasp that.

Not since he sold out to Heisenberg.

You and Döpel, that uranium peddler!

We hardly need to belabour

all the glorious highlights of your career.

Heinrich Blumberg's job under the Third Reich

was to combat "Hebraic tendencies" in German science.

I made a mistake. My God!

For three highly profitable years.

Says the newly minted Jew-lover.

"Now I am become Death,

"the Destroyer

of Worlds."

Excuse me.

Excuse me?

I feel as though...

we've met before.

Speak German. I can understand.

But I've seen you somewhere before.

Not that I know of.

But I do. I know you.

I can't explain it.

I feel that I've known you forever.

So tell me something about me.

Sorry?

If you've known me forever,

tell me something about me.

But... like what?

I don't know. My name?

Something that's true.

I don't know.

You are...

pretty?

Is that the best you can do? Really?

When you were little, you went to a summer camp on the Baltic coast.

You hated it there.

You snuck away with the other boys to smoke cigarettes in the woods.

A match fell to the ground.

It was your fault. You dropped it.

The grass was dry and caught fire.

The whole forest nearly burned because of you.

How do you kn... - Karin. My name is Karin.

Just who do you think you are?

Do you imagine you're some sort of chosen one?

You're no genius, Johannes.

Whatever your mother tells you.

It's not about inspiration, it's about work. Serious work.

Now pull yourself together!

I've left ski equipment for you.

Meet me at the ski lift.

Strathen.

Professor Blumberg?

Is everything all right?

Ah, Johannes. The thing is...

I'm leaving.

This congress doesn't seem to be happening.

I'll take the next train back to Germany.

I have other commitments, you understand.

Yes.

I'm sorry to hear that.

I hope to see you again.

I'm sorry, I have to rush...

Oh!

Professor?

May I perhaps write to you, about my dissertation?

Yes.

Of course.

Adieu.

Blumberg?

Karin?

Karin, wait!

Karin!

Idiot.

Susi? Susi.

I'm here, Susi.

Wait!

Here. A walking stick for you.

Thank you. Where did you get it?

Are you going up to the hotel too? - Yep.

So what happened to little Susi?

She fell from high up. - What?

Yesterday, the lady with brown hair,

who took you to the doctor,

was she your wife?

No.

Not my wife.

I saw him yesterday morning.

Just before he left.

Professor Blumberg called a taxi yesterday morning and left.

To take the train to Munich.

Exactly.

He was in the lobby in his hat and coat.

His bags were packed.

It was strange. He looked older somehow.

Distraught.

He didn't recognise me at first.

And that was really the very last time you saw Professor Blumberg?

Yes.

After that I went skiing.

I had my accident.

That was the last time.

I'm sure of it.

Unusual internal bleeding was observed.

Bruising around the fingernails,

forearms and palms of the hands.

And something else,

which we've never seen before.

The cervical spine is in an extraordinary position.

Impossible, actually.

It's a forensic phenomenon.

To be quite honest,

we think it unlikely

that this "accident"

was an accident.

Leinert. - Mum. It's me.

Johannes, it's you!

Is there snow? Is your room nice?

No, unfort... - And are you working hard?

Making progress?

It's going fine.

Lots of new ideas. - What did you say?

Lots of new ideas!

Johannes, you know how grandpa wants a doctor in the family.

So please try hard if you don't want him to cut us off!

Yes. Yes, of course.

How are you, Mum? Everything OK?

It's far too expensive, talking on the phone!

It's better if you send me a postcard!

Carry on playing.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

I wanted to thank you, for getting help on the piste.

And I wanted to ask you

what you were doing with Blumberg on the ski run.

What?

You were on the piste

with men wearing hats and carrying binoculars.

One looked like Professor Blumberg.

I don't know any Blumberg.

Wait.

Wait!

I didn't say anything to the police.

Leave me alone.

Stop following me.

Be careful, Johannes.

What do you...?

What's going on?

You were having a dream.

A nightmare.

I didn't want to wake you.

Was I talking in my sleep?

No.

What are you doing?

Who's the girl in the photo?

Just a girl from back home.

Your fiancée, no?

No.

Absolutely not.

Yes, she is.

You're going to marry her.

No.

No way.

Yes.

I know you will.

I think you should grow a beard.

How did you know about the forest fire by the Baltic?

Some things I just know.

Like I know you will become a doctor. And that...

your dissertation will make you famous. And...

And I know you'll marry that girl.

Nonsense.

It's true.

I know.

How do you know that story about the Baltic?

I've never told anyone. I know I haven't.

Is it some kind of trick?

Like a party trick?

No.

It's not a trick.

I can also tell you what you were just dreaming about.

You're somewhere narrow and dark.

It's the middle of the night.

There's... a light flickering in the corner.

There are noises up above.

You're with your mother, in an air raid shelter.

You're holding her hand.

She's wearing a fur coat.

You've never met your father.

Your grandparents, the shipping people,

they don't like you.

Sometimes they even say you're not their real grandson.

And your mother tells you, "If we get hit, run."

Get to safety.

Don't look back, don't turn around, forget about me.

And then the bomb hits.

You run, but...

You turn around towards her.

Even though she told you not to.

And you see the roof collapse on her.

You see your mother buried.

You did turn around. And then she was dead.

Gone.

Forever.

And you have this nightmare,

again and again.

Almost every night.

Ever since, you've wondered what would have happened

if you hadn't turned around.

Isn't that true?

Yes.

Almost.

My mother isn't dead.

It was me who got buried, not her.

They searched for me for three days, but

nothing happened to my mother, she's fine.

This is her.

See?

But you were nearly right.

How...

How do you do that?

What is it?

Why are you leaving?

I have to go.

What is it? - Don't touch me!

What was that?

Who knows.

What a glorious day.

Dr Koch!

Dr Koch!

Dr Koch! Look out!

Look, another avalanche.

Ah, it's not that bad.

Excuse me?

Excuse me.

I beg your pardon? - What is it?

Might you know where Karin is? - Karin?

The pianist? - She didn't come to work today.

If you see her, tell her she needn't bother coming back!

There you are.

I've been looking for you everywhere!

Have you heard?

Yes.

Why go into the mountains after a storm?

Anyway.

At least we won't lose any potential Nobel Laureates.

What's the matter with your head?

Hmm.

Maybe too much sun.

What was her surname?

Hönig, Honig...

I don't know.

But she plays piano here.

I don't know any musicians.

But maybe she lives here?

Listen, someone must know her.

I don't know any such woman.

Let alone a pianist.

Good day to you.

I know where the woman you're looking for is.

There. Up there.

She lives there.

I've got nothing. - Then you have to help me.

What with? - Promise you'll listen to me.

Of course. - Promise, now.

Fine. I promise.

We're on some men's trail.

They're in cahoots with that woman.

They live in the mountain in secret tunnels.

I went there with Susi. We saw them.

They're behind it all! They know things that haven't happened yet.

And they killed Blumberg, that fat professor.

I just need to prove it. - Johnny. Calm down.

I knew you wouldn't believe me!

Here. Take these.

That's something, isn't it?

And now get back to the hotel. We'll talk later.

Karin...

Take it slow, Johannes.

Little Johnny's dead.

"Le secret de Polichinelle "...

That means everyone already... - Mr Leinert knows what it means.

Mr Leinert is an educated man.

We've already found the boy. - A miracle in the blizzard.

Half the village was out looking.

The manager's beside himself. First all that with the hotel...

And then his grandson.

Excuse me.

What happened to the hotel?

Where are we, anyway?

The congress was cancelled. - What?

The hotel was evacuated.

More and more guests complaining of skin problems.

Redness, itching.

Scabby sores.

The medical authorities suspect some exotic pox infection.

They ordered everyone to stay.

Of course, almost everyone left anyway.

Mr Leinert...

We have some questions for you. For example...

What were you doing in the village with a boy of 10?

What or whom were you really looking for?

The same person you saw on the piste?

And who took you to hospital? - Let the man speak.

Is my student a suspect now?

Is that why you're here?

Who is Karin?

There's this woman.

The pianist from the hotel.

I was looking for her. Johnny helped me.

But I didn't find the woman.

I only found...

Blumberg. I know! I know it can't actually be true.

But I did see him again, yesterday.

Not just that he looked like Blumberg,

It was Blumberg.

His head. His face.

His coat. He even had his suitcase.

Where did you get that?

It was found. - Not far from Johnny's body.

That's what Blumberg took Karin's papers away in.

Johannes!

There were papers in here.

Mr Leinert, perhaps it would be better if you got some rest.

Just for a few days. You're delirant.

Delirious.

We'll be in touch.

If we need your help with anything.

I swear to you. It was Blumberg.

Here is your professor.

Satisfied?

I never really told you what I did in the Black Forest.

I was there with Heisenberg.

We had a uranium mine over in Joachimsthal.

Anyway, all this seems oddly familiar to me.

We constantly had people dropping out with medical complaints.

Skin problems.

There was an accident in the mine.

Some of the workers were trapped.

Days after they died, their fingernails were still growing.

Blood vessels under them.

Did you know they were mining uranium here until thirty years ago?

But that makes no sense.

Uranium is only weakly radioactive.

Something must have reacted with the ore.

Was there no conclusive investigation?

We had to close the place down, before the Americans got to it.

There wasn't much left.

Our train leaves in the morning.

Hello?

Hello?

Karin? Is that you?

Say something.

Leinert residence.

Minna? - Johannes. Thank God.

I've been trying to reach you.

But you weren't at the hotel. Now there's no reply.

Why are you at mum's?

Your mother's had a fall, Johannes.

She had to go to the hospital.

I took your key in case you rang. - What?

Yes, but what about when she comes home?

She's not coming home, Johannes.

What?

She died last night.

I'm sorry.

Johannes.

I'm so sorry.

When can you come home?

Dearest Johannes,

I met you.

I met him.

I don't know what you'd think of him.

The others told me not to meet him, but I couldn't help it.

He has the same look in his eyes.

The same smell.

The same voice.

But something isn't right about him.

I'm afraid of him.

Before we came here, I found my parents.

Their grave. And my own grave.

It feels wrong, being here.

More than ever.

It seems to me that this feeling is hiding in the shadows here.

Like a colour no one can see.

Or the absence of a colour.

I wish you could be here to see it.

We leave tomorrow.

Susi.

Pst!

Wake up.

I need to ask you something. It's important.

Johnny told me something.

About secret tunnels under the mountain.

Do you know about that?

We found a hut.

Up on the mountain.

There was a tunnel.

Children aren't allowed in there.

Nobody is allowed in there.

It's dangerous.

We saw lights.

And dark men with hats.

And then stones fell down on me.

Johnny carried me all the way

to the lift. - What lift?

Do you know where Johnny is?

He wanted to come and see me.

Susi.

Concentrate! What lift?

Stop! - Stay where you are!

Stop!

Stay where you are!

Come out!

This is your final warning!

Have you gone insane?

Karin!

Shoot.

Just shoot.

It isn't him!

Shoot him, it's not Johannes!

No.

Breathe slowly.

You can go.

DANGER! RADIATION

Hey! Stay back. - Karin!

Please stay back.

Karin. - Stay back!

Karin!

Karin!

You stay back.

Hold him back!

Karin! - Johannes, please.

Have you recently had contacts with citizens of the USSR?

Or the German Democratic Republic?

No. Never. Nothing like that.

What is this?

This was found on the body.

You wouldn't have your passport on you, by any chance?

Blumberg. - Julius.

We found him on the mountainside.

It's no good. He won't say a word.

Julius.

Come on.

Karin?

What are you doing here?

Sorry.

I'm sorry.

What did the police want from you?

They told me the radiation levels measured.

Twelve microrem per second.

I advised them to evacuate as wide an area as possible.

What about the body?

Look.

This. I found this.

This is the description of the wavefunction. Do you see?

The same method as I use in my paper. The same assumption.

This is my formula.

It's like part of my thesis.

As if I'd written it myself. Just...

Minna?

Minna?

Mum?

My boy!

You should have told me!

I'd have come to the station!

Did you know Minna drowned?

They found her in the canal.

So good to have you back!

Johannes would retreat to his room,

remembering what he had read in Karin's letter,

on a half-faded back page.

Johannes would defend his dissertation.

Only three professors would be present

on that sunny June afternoon in 1963.

Dr Strathen presiding, only slightly aged.

Behind his eyes the spectre of strange events

long repressed or forgotten.

Johannes would want to remind him,

describe how in the spring of 1962,

cosmic rays had acted on uranium ore

under the mountain in the Swiss Alps.

Causing spontaneous anomalies, bizarre cloud formations

and rifts in reality.

Johannes never would become a doctor of physics.

For the rest of his life, Strathen would fight against his theories.

The scientific community would avoid him, spurn him and reject him.

Only his mother would ever believe and encourage him.

A year later he'd write a non-fiction book.

Basically his dissertation.

But no one would buy it.

He'd try to get his ideas out in a different form.

He would write a novel,

relaying the strange events of 1962.

Karin and little Johnny and the two Blumbergs,

and Karin... Karin, again and again.

In one of the few interviews he'd give at his novel's publication,

for a local paper in northern Germany,

he would say he was writing to avoid forgetting.

Her very face would turn to mist,

like a photograph developing in reverse.

That Karin had tried to shoot him...

he'd try to repress it, push it to the deepest recesses of his mind.

When he thought of it in sleepless nights,

he'd tell himself she was trying to protect him.

What happened afterwards,

what he'd seen, in the dark void that had swallowed him,

that he dealt with in just one short, mysterious chapter.

He never said a word about his mother,

who had died, yet was still alive.

At some point he'd ask her about the air raid shelter,

back in 1943 in Hamburg.

He'd ask her if she could remember exactly what had happened.

She'd tell him not to bother her with old stories.

Now he had an idea how Karin might have felt in his world.

He'd look for her everywhere.

He'd find evidence: documents with her name,

a memorial, a graveyard.

The smell from a nearby biscuit factory filled the air,

and Johannes was all alone, when he finally found her.

Of course she'd not be lying

under this gravestone.

Her ashes were in a mass grave in Poland, with her parents,

With hundreds, thousands of others,

nameless and unknown under the ground.

The man they called Blumberg,

the whereabouts of his body,

and of the bodies of a small boy and another man, strangely deformed,

these things were soon known to no one.

People passing through would later be told

there'd been an avalanche back in 1962.

Even years later, the tunnels under the mountain

would remain radioactive, inaccessible.

The hotel, too, which would never reopen after the Winter 1962 season,

would decay to a ruin, eaten away by time.

Teenagers would break in sometimes.

An adventure, a bit of diversion.

Next morning all they'd leave would be beer cans,

and used condoms.

The years would pass.

The Cold War would warm up for a while, then cool down again.

Johannes would be oblivious to the student protests,

the visit of the Shah, the Soviet moon landing

or the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

He'd stay in his mother's house, who would die ten years later.

Just another ghost.

One day he'd stop shaving.

His hair would cover the bald patch

that he couldn't stop scratching,

just like he couldn't stop dreaming of her.

Karin.

He'd talk to her,

tell his sufferings to the shadows on the wall.

Sometimes he wasn't sure himself.

Then, years later,

the regular tests would show the radiation was gone.

The tunnel would reopen.

He'd stay at an inn, in the valley.

Susi!

He'd see her there.

She'd now be nineteen years old.

To her, he was just a hazy memory.

They'd become friends.

She'd see him for who he was. And for a while, that was enough.

A year later, Italian film producers would buy the rights to his novel.

It wouldn't be a good film.

They'd invite him to the premiere in Rome,

but he wouldn't go.

That isn't him! Shoot him! That isn't Johannes!

Johannes!

As Johannes saw this strangest, most ineffable chapter of his little life

play out before him, imagined badly, realised worse,

something inside him broke with the outside world forever.

With the help of Susi's father, in charge of the site,

Johannes would venture deep into the tunnels.

There'd be lights and exit signs,

fire extinguishers on the walls.

There'd be no sign of the disaster ever having taken place.

Sometimes, when he was alone, he felt as if he could see her.

As if she was visiting him.

All he'd hear would be a faint roar from deep in the mountain,

one evening, for a few minutes,

like a melody.

Johannes.

Come and help me.

Johannes, come and help me, I said!

One day she'd have had enough.

Enough of his ghosts, his psychoses and his empty gaze.

He was broke all the time.

In the end, he'd die alone,

never knowing that after his death,

his novel would become an international cult hit.

He drank, smoked like a chimney,

his lungs a frail lump of tar.

They'd find him on the couch, a burnt cigarette in the carpet,

his blood alcohol at 0.35%.

His daughter would call an ambulance.

It arrived 16 minutes later and took him out in a black plastic bag.

Translation: Duncan Smart

Subtitles: alias film und sprachtransfer