The day had been exhausting and nerve-wracking for Tintin and his snow-white Fox Terrier Snowy. It wasn't easy to be an honest reporter. It simply required more than just the ability to juggle words well, to ask the right questions and in the end to pack everything nicely in one article. Tintin always wanted to live up to his reputation as an honest and famous reporter. Therefore, he examined every indication of a good story down to the last detail and often brought himself and his dog, and sometimes even his friends, in peril.

Today had been one of those days when Tintin had played with his life again. Fortunately, everything had turned out lightly, which is why he could now afford to relax at home at Labradorstreet 26. Tired of the events of the past few hours, he had gone to bed quite early and had been lying awake for a while before the tiredness overwhelmed him.

He quickly found himself in one of his usual, longing dreams. He dreamed again of this brunette, young woman, who bore the name Christin and lived 82 years away in the future. He had known her since she was a little girl of six. Not only did he know her, but his entire homeland and his friends also knew who she was. They knew everything about her life and they also knew how much she longed for Tintin.

In fact, he felt the same way. He had watched her grow up and slowly but steadily, as she got older, fell in love with her. Tintin longed for her as much as she longed for him. But a meeting was completely out of the question because she lived far in the future and in another world. At least in his dreams, Tintin could be with her. Just like in this dream, like every night. In the dream he could only hear her thoughts clearly, feel her feelings for him and even feel her touch on his skin.