Monday, 7 January 2013

Trying to flee Constantinople

   The dream started with me taking an offer to travel. We would go to London and Berlin. I got to a large and complicated railway station, I often see in my sleep, and was trying to find my way around. I only carried a small backpack and was practically broke. My fellow traveller was a ten year old scoundrel that was running around and climbing on things. I had a hard time keeping up with him.    Finally he led me to the ticket office, through a first floor window. I was hanging outside the window, not really able to pull myself inside when I saw at the desk a guy I knew from primary school. I asked for his help and he came to my assistance. We would all be traveling together.
   Our train was about to depart and we were running on the old-time platforms among huge trains that were leaving smoke. Everything was grey, blue and black. The platforms were high and crowded.
   We got off at Berlin. I knew because I saw all the famous monuments of this city, gathered together on a square. I saw the victory column and the telecommunications centre and the Branderburg gate.
   Then we were on a boat and the captain was my company's father and also the father of my friend V. who joined the dream, occasionally taking the place of the ten-year-old boy. These two were not very close and although the father was obviously rich, the offspring was rather poor.
   We were sitting on a round table with fer forge chairs with some old-women. At that point I realized I did not have my passport or any other international documentation with me and that I had run out of money. All I had was my old id and knitting needles. I had to go either to the embassy or return back home. I asked where we were and I learned we were in Istanbul. I thought of the Residents and their song. From my point of view there was only one thing to do; try to cross the sea and get back home. I was searching for a boat when my alarm started beeping.  

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