Last night I dreamed that I was back in Spain, but unlike my usual Spanish dreams it was more of a nightmare. I was in one of the worst neighborhoods of my childhood, going to a party or maybe just to a bar, can’t really remember exactly.
On my way there a man with a gun robbed me, he came right to where I was and asked for all my money. Unfortunately for him I didn’t have any! So he took my purse with all its useless stuff (useless for him) and surprisingly I wasn’t scared. I was just angry because the dumb thief stole my purse for no reason at all, well not that he had a reason to steal from me to start with, but seeing that the stuff in my purse had little economic value seems a futile thing to steal.
At last I woke up and I was safe, safe from the anger of useless deeds.