fifth cycling trip

I think I died. The door opened and a man whom I'd never seen in my life came in. A fur hat was on his head and I couldn’t see his face from his beard. He puttered around, fumbled through the room, he obviously felt at home. He put his bag beside the bed, took a bicycle ring from it, then sat down where I had sat before. For a long time he only stared ahead in silence. He took the spoon which I had eaten with in his hands and stroked it. He rang the bell. Then he spoke. He said: “road, peak, forests”. Then, “town and village”. I wanted to tell him that I was there, but no sound came out of my throat. I looked at his eyes. They were sad. He also looked at mine. But he didn’t even blink. Then he leaned over the half-empty plate and spooned out the rest of my jelly.