I am visiting this recurrent town on the coast. Sea is hostile this time.
I run through the streets away from something or someone running after me. I run, run and turn my head back for a second: there is a complete rainbow on the horizon behind me.
Keep running in ruined streets, many ups and down. While running down a street I bump into an old lady: she is tall, big, strong, her overall color is deep cobalt.
She makes a move on me, quick and fast like a heavy wing flapping: she makes magic. A curse. She says she is making me a favor, she sees my energy broken, my inner balance broken. I try to fight her, I don’t want to turn into someone I don’t know. Eventually I calm down and walk with her.
We walk towards a group of old ladies, they tell me a story about my ancestors. Cobalt lady says I had a loss back in 1919. I try to recall, but nothing comes to my mind. I try to recall my past history, my grandparents, and their grandparents too, but dates don’t match. Main thing that does not match is that I start speaking Spanish: words that I haven’t heard before come out of my mouth smoothly. I understand that that is not my story, it is not me. Cobalt lady says that I even have a boyfriend. I ask info about this person that I don’t recall. She whispers “Cissss” with the embarrassment and insecurity of an old lady learning a new language (that’s the only funny part of the story). I make a terrified face, I am sure that cannot be me. I scream that I want to go back to the broken, unbalanced and queer self of mine. She understands and makes the magic once again. I am immediately back to myself, admiring pictures of the saddest songwriter on earth, Nick Drake. And I was broken and happy again.
And so the dream got a soundtrack. I guess music makes the magic, in time of Corona.