Die Unschuldigen, ich und die Unbekannte am Rand der Landstrasse

In this place, I thought of grips where I come from, of the road that leads south to a village called Ruden. In the piece, the road is out of service, a guard sits there; it is his domain, and no one is allowed to enter. The innocent come along, they are innocent, yet they cause a lot of nonsense. They are not the old villains who do everything intentionally; rather, they do not know what they are doing, as Jesus says: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!" I tend to think: "Father, do not forgive them!" In any case, there are confrontations among the characters, quite funny, sharp, and dreamlike, as is my style. Then things get going properly, but then I stop again because I find it uninteresting to just strike out. The hero is called 'I'; he is a middle figure between Caliban and Prospero, a monster, a madman, a beast, and so on.