Sequela

Been having many nightmares lately, the most in succession ever.

I

A knock on the hotel room door. It’s you. You’re holding flowers and you look happy and hopeful. (How did you find me?) I just catch sight of your bespectacled profile walking away, behind you. There are two of you. (What’s going on?) You asked me if I would come back. Your English was sometimes a little odd. You were asking me for friendship and forgiveness, no doubt. But I couldn’t speak to you. I was distraught and horrified and thought I’d never have to see you again. Tears welled up and poured down my face and I spoke to myself, “I can’t do this”. I say it over and over again. Louder and more frantic each time until I was sobbing. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I was losing control over myself. I collapsed onto my knees, and put my head behind my arms as if I could hide from you. M came to the door. He looks down at me and back at you. He didn’t understand what was going on. He doesn’t recognize you.

II

I don’t remember much of the details but I’m in Greece. Santorini, probably. An endless ocean and some scattered islets. I’m not sure who I’m with but it’s someone that I really care about. Everything was beautiful but then hurricanes suddenly swept through the scene. We’re in danger. I’m afraid it’s the end of us. Game over.

//

Apparently hurricanes in the Mediterranean do happen but they are extremely rare. They are typically called “Medicanes”, a portmanteau between “Mediterranean” and “Hurricane” and only about a hundred of them have been recorded since 1948.

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