To get past someone in front of an entrance, I have to hold my breath. I try again and again.

I'm on a train with C. to a theatre performance in Koblenz. A bearded man is standing in the centre aisle of the train. He's wearing a jacket. I fall asleep and wake up to voices. The police are talking to the man in the centre aisle. I am confused. Apart from the jacket, the man is only wearing plastic bags. Has he stolen something from my jacket? On leaving the train, I see him on a seat further forward. In Koblenz I come to a warehouse where I see a man and a woman. The man gives me a sack full of silverware. It slips down into a large sack, which I hold. Why am I getting this silver? It's not mine. Yes, says the man, I've inherited it. From Hungary. That can't be true, I don't have any family from Hungary. But the man insists. C. leaves with a few bags but the biggest one is missing. I go back and get it. On the way out, I look at the shelves and wonder whether I should take more things with me. Are the goods under video surveillance? I realise that I'm getting greedy. C. says the items must not be worth much. I reply: ‘Yes, €100,000.’ That's what the man told me. He also gave me two very old cheques from the Bank of London, which I should cash there. We still have to catch a bus to the theatre performance and are running late. I'm standing next to the stage and see K. Later she apologises to me for not calling me on stage for the applause. I think nobody could have known that I would come. But I also know that I always have to fight to be recognised.