He heard quiet footsteps behind him. That didn't bode well. Who would follow him, late at night and in this narrow alleyway in the middle of the notorious harbor district? Just now, when he had done the thing of his life and wanted to disappear with the loot!

Far back, behind the mountains of words, far from the countries of vowels and consonants, live the blind texts. They live in seclusion in Buchstabhausen on the coast of the Semantik, a great ocean of language. A little stream called Duden.

It's the same old story everywhere. The layout is finished, the text is a long time coming. So that the layout doesn't stand naked in the room and feel small and empty, I jump in.