La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams

No. 8: September 1969

In the métro

After what might have been countless adventures, I manage to board the train just as it’s preparing to leave, as the dull black automatic doors are already closing.

The compartment is long and narrow, almost empty. There is only an immensely tall woman on the other side of the car, lying over several seats — not across a row but down the length of the car, her feet roughly where I am and her head almost at the other end of the compartment.

(Suddenly) I feel something (someone) gently running (a hand) through my hair.

I am frightened.

I shout.

It is certainly not the woman, who seems even more than I am.