NIGHTMARES ON MY STREET

A white room, a window the size of a wall, overlooking a forest and a rainy town. A bed. I am standing in the center of the room. It is the end of a dream and I am aware of it, but what can I do? I can’t wake up, I have to keep dreaming. I see a bucket with paint next to my bare feet, I take a brush and start painting. I paint on those white walls, I paint a purple sunset, a red sunset, a black, yellow, blue sunset. That sunset is taking me to another dream, I’m sure … I leave the house, but I feel strange: that is not my house, that is not me. I am a girl of about twelve, with long blond hair and a white handkerchief tied on my head to protect me from the sun. Wait a minute … From the sun? I look around and immediately realize that I am in an enchanted valley. Huge dragons fly overhead, and equally large dinosaurs graze grass in the vast green meadows. Observing them better I notice something that immediately makes me sad. Dinosaurs are black and white. I immediately run into the house and take some pencils, so begins my journey to that enchanted valley where I have decided to color all those dinosaurs that make me so sad. After a while, however, I discover that the dinosaurs I have colored are dying. The people are in revolt, the hunt for the dinosaur stainer begins immediately, so I decide to escape. I take refuge in a tavern, where an old lady recognizes me. Determined to hand me over to her people, she begins to chase me, I take refuge in the basement. There I find a straw broom, so I get on it and fly away … I run away from the lady of the tavern, I run away from the dinosaurs, from the dragons, from that enchanted valley, from that dream that has become a strange and disturbing nightmare …
“Make a wish.” And then a chuckle. I woke up around four in the morning with an uncontrollable urge to feel the carpet under my feet. So I got out of bed, this time inexplicably rested. A comforting clean scent hovered all around. I walked down the hall regretting having forgotten my slippers – the marble was dirty and cold unlike the indigo blue carpet in the room – and in total darkness I pushed the bathroom door without making it creak. Maybe just a little. Inside, the mirror bulbs remained on. The ones that worked. Was it possible that I had left them? The tiles glistened and flowed along the shower cubicle rails like dominoes. A soft and pleasant steam exhaled from the towels, the sink knobs transmuted into a nice face of a mechanical toad. Next to the soap dish, a luminous inscription: “Make a wish”. I opened the hot water and stroked the bar of soap a dozen times, focusing on something I wanted, but I couldn’t think of anything. There was only bubbles and laughter. I wanted to wake up instantly. But it didn’t happen

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