The Dreams

Dream 1

I was riding my bicycle from one place to another, driven by hunger, in search of a restaurant fit for my limited means. At each one I found its doors locked, and when my eyes fell on the clock in the square I saw my friend at its foot.

He called me over with a wave of his hand, so I headed my bike in his direction. In view of my condition, he suggested that, in order to make my quest easier, I leave my bicycle with him. I followed his suggestion — and my hunger and my search grew even more intense, until I happened upon a family eatery.

Propelled by the need for food and by despair, I approached it, though I knew how expensive it was. I saw the owner standing at the entrance before a hanging curtain. What could I do but to throw it open — only to find the place changed into a ruin filled with refuse in place of its grand hall readied with culinary delights. Dismayed, I asked the man, “What’s going on?”

“Hurry over to the kabab-seller of youth,” he answered. “Maybe you can catch him before he shuts down.”

Not wasting any time, I ran back to the clock in the square — but found neither the bicycle there, nor my friend.