Written on 29 April 2020:
Walking down a street in some European city, Lisbon, maybe. A cousin of mine driving a tricycle (non-motorized) with a passenger passes by. I’m not sure if I should say hi to her, didn’t want to embarrass her. But she herself says hi, or maybe I did. She comes over. I’m in front of a large, dark-wooden antique door. I recognize it a my place, my house. There’s a buzzer button encased in limestone green ornamental. I press it.
dream chronicles 