Two Dreams

Fall asleep on train - the route runs through three 'T's, the last one Tuscany. But we are not there yet. I walk along a long path of sand; to my left, horses and dogs run up a slope towards me. Damascan straight road. There are hotels to my right and left which become further apart either side of the sea. Maps refer to 'The Three 'T's' and it seems I have just walked the Golden Fleece.

I go up to my hotel room. I figure, although I booked it for yesterday, I still have access today. I look out the window at the sand and sea. A man is playing beautiful music.

I go down to the street. The man is on a slope of sand. A guy with blonde white hair says to me 'It sounds nice, but he plays it non-stop.' I strain to see his instrument, hidden from my view. It sounds mechanical, like a wind-up organ. 'Are you here for long? I could walk you.' I go with him. He seems ageless.

I wonder, as we are walking to the end, about my safety. We mount some steps and he pushes past a long man with a white cane. He turns to me. I deny any part in it. As I walk past him, the white haired boy and he exchange glances and the boy slips him money. I garner that each strip of beach is owned or 'worked' by one person and that I will get beaten and mugged at the end. I round the corner and slip down a second flight of stairs, head back to the hotel.

The toilet bowl is stained with dried urine. I am listening to great French music, not from G., but the boy. I feel bad not to be able to trust him. There is a piano in my room, lid down.

I recall that hotels have a check out time. Perhaps I was wrong to presume I had access. I must clean up and leave; slip out.

-

After my class, students have a swimming lesson. I want to swim. I turn away from them in the changing rooms. The rooms gradually turn into desks and adjoin the library. I wander too far and am among books and people studying; head back, past women showering, eventually must settle on changing against a bookcase.