Ghosts

The heavy fog is laying slowly but surely on Basel. Its 10.03.07, midnight just strucked and the villa on the Totentantz its restless. Boris (my diploma assistant) its working a late shift, focusing on his work. Till suddenly the lights go out and a strange sound comes from the staircase. He goes to check. Maybe another late student. Wouldn't mind to share a cigarette with another fellow. but nobody. Disappointed he returns to his desk to see that his computer its gone and a strange yellow paper lays on his desk: "The hour had come to prove your worth in "creative solving the..." (reference rhythmus... I am so on my diploma ding) path of clues.

And so the hunt begins of strange turning posters, empty bath rooms were reflections are distorted, with friendly but deadly ghosts minding his every step till he arrives to a place so cold that would freeze your senses. The fridge!

Were a big rosa cake with strawberries (so Marie Antoinette) was waiting for him.

Happy birthday B.!