I walk through one and pass by a white building whose ground floor home had wide glass panelled doors that reminded me of both a Spanish hacienda home and a car garage. The walls are sandblasted and rough to the touch.
Into this white building I enter a home.
We are in the kitchen, an utility one that was so common in flats in the 70s. The table is red formica and trimmed with a strip of aluminum.
We are having some kind of German cake with cream.
I look out of the kitchen window. Forested ridges and valleys lay below. It is a magnificent view.
Outside, there is a commotion. I go out and find that it is already evening.
There seems to be a religious festival going on. Opera face masks - both large and regular size - float up into the air. People are following them and wondering at their magical presence. I, too, wondered how they managed to float in the air like that.
A teenager, who is 'marshalling' one of the masks, is doing his job and using his handphone at the same time. That made me tsk at his split attention. Haiz, kids these days, I seem to lament.
When we reached a look-out point, a giant moon in the sky greeted us. It was huge and almost covered the sky. I thot I saw Old Man Moon smiling back at me, but it was only fleeting. The bright moonlight seemed warm and inviting though.
In the crowd, I were two of my former GFs. One was with her hubby. The other was her usual quiet, smiley self.
Around a corner, I find myself alone in an alley once more. In the short distance ahead, I could see a watch repair shop. Jurgen Procknow the actor is the watch repairman. He wore a magnifying monocle. Or was that man Robert De Niro? In any case, I am thinking of a character actor.
I revisit the kitchen a couple of times. The owner couple was there as well as a younger lady. We seem to be in a discussion over something. Perhaps the development of the mountain region, or something else entirely. Not long after, I wake.