When I was about to go to the toilet, which was across from my room, I heard Quasimodo groan. I opened the door of my room and saw Quasimodo, who tossed and turned restlessly and finally rolled off my sofa. Then I saw something I hardly believed: Quasimodo's body seemed to fade more and more until I could see through him almost like a ghost. Jasmin stepped to my side and said softly: "Hey, that reminds me of ..."

I nodded: "The space-time paradox."

If, under certain circumstances, a person is in another time, it can happen that time repels his existence. I don't know what happens to him then. It may be wiped out. I dreaded that.

But then suddenly Quasimodo woke up and sat up. He looked at me so lost that I felt pity for him. I gave him my hand to help him up. His gaze fell on the showcase next to the sofa. My Hunchback collection was safely kept there. A large model of Notre Dame took up almost an entire floor. There were 2 porcelain figures in front of the model. One from Quasimodo and one from Esmeralda as they looked in the Disney movie. Of course Quasimodo looked a little different here in front of me, but still ... he seemed to recognize the similarity.

"What is that?" Quasimodo asked and then pressed with his finger on the glass door of the showcase, at the level of the Quasimodo porcelain figure. "This character looks like me."

"Yes ... um ...", I squeezed until Jasmine stepped next to me and nodded encouragingly. I turned Quasimodo to me so that he could understand me. Conversation with him takes significantly longer than normal. Although Quasimodo could read from lips, I had to emphasize what I was saying so that he would understand me. Quasimodo, on the other hand, speaks more slowly than other people because he was no longer used to speaking. For most of his life he had only had Frollo as the only contact person. And he used a kind of sign language.

"I collect as much as possible that has to do with you, because you know ..." I turned away from him briefly and took a book from my shelf across from the showcase on the wall. I turned back to Quasimodo and handed it to him: "Your story is very well known at this time. Many people at least know your name or your home. I was 10 when I heard about it for the first time. Unfortunately, I didn't understand everything at that time "I was still too young. 6 years later I was more mature and dealt with your story more intensively. At that time, I completely fell in love with your story and it has never let go of me since."

Quasimodo leafed through the book in disbelief and always seemed to find familiar names where he paused. Then Quasimodo suddenly gasped. He dropped to his knees and his body began to fade again. But that was not all. At the same time, the walls of my room seemed to be shaking.

"What's going on?" Quasimodo asked, panting.

Until suddenly everything calmed down again. As suddenly as it started.

"You don't belong in this time.", Said Jasmine, as she bent her down to him: "That has an impact. Greater than we thought."

"And now?" Asked Quasimodo.

"You have to go back to your time.", Said Jasmine when Quasimodo got up again.

"Why? There's nothing left for me there. Then I'd better dissolve here.", Quasimodo said bitterly.

"Your presence also affects us.", Said Jasmine in a sad voice.

"And how should he get back? What a bummer. I've written about time travel so often. Now I'm in such a story myself and completely overwhelmed!" I cursed.