First of January II — Entrance into the Leopold Museum

At that point, I had been walking for days under the scorching sun. My mouth was dry, and my steps slowly got clumsier and clumsier, soon my vision slowly went blank. I fainted, and as soon as my head hit the burning sand, the ground disappeared below me. My unconscious body plunged through a fog of cold black clouds.

I found myself standing in winter clothes in front of a wide stairway of white marble, which led into an equally white building. The sign on the wall said ‘Leopold Museum’: I was in Vienna. I looked around and recognized the Museum Quartier from my days in the city back when I was a burning 19-year-old enthusiastic flame. Around me, people were chatting lovingly and a piano was playing across the square. On top of the stairs, someone was calling my name. I turned and saw Dalila, beautiful as always, wearing her grandmother’s black skirt.

My heart jumped and my eyes filled with tears of joy in seeing my old friend, who had always been able to effortlessly bring poetry into my life. She was looking at me as if we had never parted. I knew that we had probably gotten there together and planned on visiting the museum. Still thirsty, I shed back the tears and climbed the stairs towards her.

With a confident smile, she opened the door of the museum for me. I had already been there, but only remembered the painting of a little girl crossing a river, walking precariously on the long trunk of a tree. I liked that little girl’s power. She was surmounted by mountains and dark forests.

I found a purple water bottle in my bag as we walked in, and I felt as grateful as ever. Dalila and I did not talk much: we were immediately captured by an almost overwhelming sense of respect towards that sacred place, almost like the smell of incense upon entering a cathedral. Yes, it felt like we were entering a cathedral, and maybe we were in some sense.

Feeling the energy of that place, I suspected I was soon going to encounter something mighty. I washed my face at the toilets, filled my water bottle, and, armed only with my bones, I approached the experiences to come. In the elevator, Dalila asked me how I was feeling. I was unstable, to tell the truth, between terrorized and relieved.

How was this read? Could you relate? LMK in the comments. I am looking forward to your feedback :)