Sweden (part 3)

Time
When he woke up, he knew that he had been dreaming again. It was strange. He felt that in his dream, he wished to actually stop dreaming. But as soon as he woke up in Sweden, he realized that he wanted to return to that gloomy and rainy world in his dream.
Archibald felt confused. He decided that he would ask Timmy if he had been dreaming as well.
Today the weather was good again. Although it was raining as well. Maybe that is why he had heard the tapping of the rain so well. It had sounded almost real.
Outside the weather was slightly gray. But only slightly gray. Nothing like what he had seen in his dream. Here in Sweden it seamed like the light gray of the air also had a touch of green to it.
Green from the endless amounts of trees and their leaves that reflected green into each and every corner. And the white stems of the birch trees would give the gray color a sort of creamish feel.  
When it rained at least the birds were a bit more silent. Only a slight tshiip was heard at times from somewhere in the forest. And it smelled good as well. Very fresh and clean somehow.
Archibald wondered what he was going to do today. He might have a walk in the rain if Timmy was up for it. He could also finally start and clean his cabin. It was not yet a complete mess but it definitely was starting to look like it.
The dishes had been done. They were lying next to the washbasin on a small wooden kitchen counter that went along the whole side of the wall. It was a very small wall though. Just as long as Archibald's bed.
The counter also served as a shelve. He looked at a half burned candle standing there and a vase with some half dead flowers in them. And then his eyes fell onto another object. Strangely enough he could not remember what it was for. It looked like dark green rectangle and did not seem to serve any clear purpose.
A feeling of bewilderment took hold of Archibald. Did he not even know where he actually was living? He focused on the object and then he thought that he started to recognize it.
He looked at it for so long until he was sure that it actually belonged to him and not to Timmy or to someone else. Imagine that. Someone else?
How could there be someone else. As far as he remembered there had only been him and Timmy and no one else. How could there be someone else?
How would that other person look like?
He imagined a person  that looked a little like Timmy and a little like himself. A person with a large beard and long hear. Because both he and Timmy had large beards and very long hear.
Thinking about that, he realized that he actually had a plan for the day. He could try and trim Timmy's hear and Timmy could help and try and trim his hear.
Not bad.
Timmy was looking up to the ceiling and then out of the window. It was still raining. And it did look like it was going to continue to rain for quite a while. Probably the rest of the day.
Millions of drops were tapping against the window, splashing on the roof and making all of Sweden's nature wet and fertile. It was tapping louder and louder. Archibald was happy he had remained home. Maybe there was a storm coming up.
When looked up through the window he noted that now the clouds were actually turning darker. It reminded him of something he had seen before. Then he realized that he probably had to close the windows at some point. Or at least he had to close the shutters. But he would wait with that. If there was going to be a storm he was surely not going to miss it.
He could not remember very well when the last storm had been. But he did remember that there had been a lots of lightning involved and so he decided to just remain horizontal, under the deer hides, and look outside. Like this he had a lot of time to think things over.
What had he actually been thinking about, he wondered. Involuntarily his eyes fell back on the rectangle on the shelve. He decided that he had enough time to actually get up and take a look at it. At the same time he felt strangely withheld form moving. He had enough energy to get up and take the rectangle for closer examination but he felt somehow unsure. Or tired. But he was not tired. He did not know what was going on.
For the first time in what felt like years Archibald felt something bad. A negative emotion. He felt fear. As if he was not in control. As if some one had taking his initiative away from him. For some reason - maybe because he knew deep down what he had to do or maybe because his organism knew that his consciousness could not be trusted anymore and was thus going into autopilot - he started to gather all the energy he had and then pushed himself from his bed.
He was now in a sitting position and he noticed how his brain was getting dizzy. He wondered if he was sick. Or maybe it was something else... it seamed like something was breaking through to him. Something was breaking through the life he had known thus far and was trying to reach him. Or did he just imagine that?
He felt how his brain was more and more giving up. Or some part of his brain or consciousness was at least. Then he got up and he felt how he had to stretch his hand out to get hold of something in order not to fall down. Then he stumbled to ward the shelve. Before he reached it he took hold of the small chair that was standing under it. He pulled it away  from under the small desk that was standing under the window and next to the shelve. He stood still for a while and tried to get himself together again but then he just let himself fall onto the chair. All went black.

--- story continues soon with "Sweden (part4)" (working on it)---