ZOMBIE GIRL

I was reminded of some flashes of the main dream of tonight: I lived in the mountains in a kind of community very close to nature that therefore built buildings in the trees and protected the animals. One day a strange thing happens: many electric pylons appear (many in the proper sense one attached to the other). Nobody immediately understands what I am but me and a friend of mine from the past (in the dream I knew the name but now I don't remember it), during our patrol out of the woods we hear the scream of a little girl. Arrived in the place of the scream we see this little girl who was trying to hide between two rocks from what it seemed .... A zombie. We run to save her and we manage to drive away the zombie with fire.
We take the little girl and go back to the village, while we return my friend is injured and I clearly remember her on the ground and I scream in despair: I understand that shortly thereafter the situation would degenerate and I start with the others to arrange buildings among the trees. use as shelters.
The dream ends after, with difficulty, I managed to climb into a shelter (with the child and my friend) via a very long vertical rope ladder and inside the shelter I find the little girl who has become a zombie. Am I that little girl?

THEY STOLE MY BYCICLE

Six years ago a friend of mine gave me his bicycle as a gift and he is gone forever. For three years the bike has always served me: I loaded it like a mule to do the shopping, we went a couple of times away and then around this green area, for months she and I, her bike. For months and miles, it was my car. I remember that she was waiting for me on the last sidewalk of the station when he left. When I left for London it was brought with great difficulty to Padua and when I returned from London I went to pick it up from Padua. It was raining heavily that day, rivers of water lined the streets and the Paduans found a girl in the rain who splashed water everywhere and sang the Christmas song “Jingle bells” in the middle of summer. I was very happy to be able to ride a bike. When I arrived at the station, the track for the bike was the last one, outside the station shelter and so I had to forcefully fit the bike onto the wagon and then pull it up, in the midst of a thousand curses on that last wagon before the locomotive. Unlike the one I have at home, this one was called “Little Mermaid” because during the winter rains of a cold and merciless reverse, I always emerged from the waters on her saddle and stayed afloat. I walked around in sub-zero temperatures and warm socks under my pants. Then one day I went to the library, serene as always, and when I go out I haven’t found her. You took away not only a bike of questionable economic value, and of fundamental practical value, but you also took away a dear memory and a piece of my life. The Little Mermaid was the only memory I had of my friend. Thieves assholes!

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