I walk through one and pass by a white building whose ground floor home is adorned with wide glass panel doors that reminds 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 a small kitchen - an utility one that was so common in flats in the UK in the 70s. The table is red formica and has a strip of aluminum trim.
We are having some kind of German cake with white 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 evening has fallen.
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 is seen marshaling the masks forward. He is doing his job and using a handphone at the same time. Typical. That makes me "tsk" at his split attention. Haiz, kids these days, I lament.
When we reach a look-out point, a giant moon in the sky greets us. It is huge and almost covers the sky. I think Old Man Moon is smiling back at me but only fleetingly. The bright moonlight seem warm and inviting though.
In the crowd, I am with two of my former GFs. One is with her hubby; the other, she is her usual quiet, smiley self.
Around a corner, I find myself alone in an alley once more. In the short distance ahead, I can see a watch repair shop. Jurgen Procknow the actor is the watch repairman. He wears a magnifying monocle. Or is 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 is 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.