The first thing I felt was a bench. Wooden and, infection, poorly cut, which was reported to me by long-suffering sciatic nerves, crying about it from the very first second. And on top of that, very, very narrow. Thinking sensibly that there were no such benches in Paradise, I opened one eye. The eye looked at the surrounding space, which led me to a very puzzled state of mind. I was definitely on the wagon. The wagon was definitely going somewhere in the woods. And, judging by my bound hands, the cart was not going to my grandmother for pies...