It‘s a hot summer day in Madrid. I walk south along a street, a big building of gray concrete to my right, the municipal hospital. The city vibrates with heat. I gaze to my left where, between two old buildings, I notice a green space. My feet are taking me there. Two paths with a wide variety of flowers and plants meandering through it. I follow them to the east. Now and then, a dense and wild faunas reveals glittering pools in the brazing sunlight. The air is filled with the humming of bees and the chirping of birds and a pleasant breeze gently embraces me. Further away, behind two grassy hills, I see a structure surrounded by trees. While I walk on to get there, the air becomes quieter, the loud pounding of the city slowly fades away. Later, the gentle slope I take opens and reveals the structure. It turns out to be a kind of natural amphitheatre, blending naturally into the slight incline of the slope.
Soft music fills the air. Several people sit around a guitarist and listen spellbound to the sounds of the musician. The city seems to be nothing else than a faint memory. To the right and to left of the theatre I discover small forests. Behind the right one, in the shade of the trees, I see some people entering a building and follow them.
To my surprise, a bright and open room full of people awaits me. I hear old people laughing and chatting with young people, I see painters and musicians, and everybody is busily engaged in either conversation or activity. Finally, I leave the building towards the street. There I am, once again surrounded by the heat, the noise and the hustle and bustle of the city, cars are honking, people yelling. Where have I been? Was it just a dream?
