I don’t know if you can too, but I can dream with my eyes open. In my dream I walk barefoot on the wet grass. The wind blows through my hair and the sun shines on my face. I see a squirrel jumping from tree to tree, a little horse trots on its long legs, a big worm pokes its head out of a hole in the ground and on a thin blade of grass a beetle glows. In my dream I can talk to the animals, I understand everything they say. The little beetle grumbles about the stones blocking his way.

“They are just pebbles,” I say laughing.

“To me they are mountains, you know!”

And the little horse asks:

“What do you call a beetle without little legs?”

I shrug. The worm does the same, but you can only see it if you look very closely.

“I have no idea,” I say.

“It doesn’t matter what you call him, he’s not coming anyway!” the little horse neighs triumphantly. The squirrel bursts into laughter.

“Ahah, very funny,” I tell the little horse, even though it seems a bit of an insulting joke.

And then I hear my companions are back in the corridor.