Last night I dreamt i was walking home at dusk through Vidreres' suburbs, when suddenly i decided to run. Just for sport. I had arranged to meet Guille the next day to go running together, and i felt like practising. So i ran along the lonely road, feeling more and more confident about my stamina, and then I started to jump on and off the sidewalk over the rail, to run cross-country, to hop a fence and enter a house under construction; i went on climbing up ladders and it took me a while to calm down and realize maybe i was going too far with my stunts. I quietly climbed down. In my hand was a book that Guille and I were sharing; can't remember what it was.
An old man, maybe a bum, was sitting on the garden, watching me do all this. At first, he spoke in mumbles. Later he said something about a big fire in this site last night. I look around, finding nothing burnt, so i ask him what fire is he talking about. Then he points at a large, deep hole in the ground next to the house where fallen trees are being dumped. Those are the rests.
It's dark now. I notice an orange shine at my feet: some dry leaves are slowly burning in the ground. I stomp on them to put them off. When i turn to the house again, something else is on fire inside, right in front of the old bum. As i approach, long, violent flames rip through the building's foundations.
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