Somebody said dreaming is what makes us humans. Shakespeare, probably. It’s always him. The Bard. Anyway, I sit on my sofa, sipping my coffee, trying to fix the details of this last one. There was that city on Earth, or I think it’s Earth, with skyscrapers. Or very old big buildings. I don’t know the difference anymore. The streets are empty, and I know that the city itself is mostly deserted. I’m looking for a girl that I know it’s missing. I don’t know why. I don’t remember any search order or something like that. I just know I need to do it. The light of my dream is the one I imagine it comes from a dawn. Then the flood starts to come. First, instead of walking over concrete, or asphalt, or road, whatever that was, I start to splash. Soon the water is reaching my knees, and I look for a higher ground. That I easily find. I climb to a kind of scene on a crossroad, and look to the direction the water is flowing. Then I see her. She lies on the same type of platform that I am, on the opposite corner. She looks dead. I get nervous and jump on the water between us, that is becoming more like a syrup, or mud. I look down. The water has a reddish color, but I ignore the sign. Dreams are like that, looks like I tell to myself. Finally, I climb the stairs to the place she lies, and take her in my arms. She’s wet, partially covered in white rags, but I feel her chest moving with an irregular breath. I try to apply first aids, pressing between her breasts, blowing air into her lungs. After a few coughs, she opens her eyes. They are black. No white. I don’t know where she looks. Is it her? I don’t know either. She needs to be her. She recovers fast, and ignoring me completely, she jumps into the red mud. I see her heading fast far from me, before I react and follow her. I don’t know her name, I know only that I need to save her. Why? Is she the girl on the beach?