I dreamt that I saw a man on my terrace. It was early morning, and I peeked through the bedroom shutters, which were left open ajar over night. I could see him quite well from the second floor. Slightly stooped, he was peeking through the closed shutters of the kitchen door right under me. In his mid-thirties, he had strong brown hair that was collected into a long braid on his back. Wearing a gray jacket, he struck me as a professional burglar. I woke up at once and went to the window. There was no-one on the terrace. It was just past six o’clock in the morning. The dream seemed so real that I had hard time falling asleep again. I kept thinking about various ways to fortify the house. The new gate between my house and the neighboring one makes it much more difficult for a burglar to come to the terrace from the south, but the fence to the north remained quite vulnerable. Only barbed wire could help there. Carefully interlaced with the plants that grow there, it would not be visible, either. In addition, heavy iron shutters would be a must one day soon. No burglar could possibly go through them. Such thoughts crowded my mind. Although I eventually managed to fall asleep, every sound around the house would wake me up. After several jolts of this sort, I decided to get out of bed. But the burglar is still in my mind’s eye. I saw him so well that I could recognize him among thousands.