“We haven’t located us… yet” he looks at his brothers with a frown. “How is that even possible for a train?”

At this moment, I join their circle. I qualify as lost traveller. Possibly the most disoriented of them all. I might have been born without a map; I don’t manage to hang onto any compass that is worth mentioning. The needle in my brain keeps spinning as the noises rise over there at the spot with the checkered umbrellas. I serve their cold lemonade on a glistening silver platter. I pop in and out. Become part of the brothers, inhabit the mother, I’m an excellent friend and sometimes the lover. If you’re lost successfully enough, you will be an explorer. The home is always the next stop on the schedule, you give up your favourite drink every time, and underpants will never match your travelling days.

—What’s your next turn?