It was, at first, black as sleep. Then, after a moment, things faded into visual and aural reality.
It was a crowd of people, all preparing for some great migration. I was there too. We were gathering our things, only as much as we could carry, and moving along a path toward a boat or some other craft that would convey us to some other place. There was uneasiness, optimism, and a sense of novelty that comes with adventure. As we continued on this path in the city (surrounded by tall buildings or walls of a peachish color) there were women telling me (in Spanish) "Radio!" "El radio!" One of them pointed to an old radio on a high shelf with an antenna and a couple of large dials. Then I noticed that my glasses were broken on the ear piece. I thought to myself "Well shit. Oh! I have a spare pair of glasses!" Then I ran back to the place they were and I got them. Somebody looked at the broken pair and smiled, amused. I came back to the crowd again, and we were moving toward a large, shadowy structure that could have been the craft mentioned before (or not). The path had opened to a plaza not unlike a boat dock (which is why I assume the craft's presence) with broad stone staircases leading down to the main plateau of the plaza. A friend of mine who I haven't seen in quite some time was pushing a shopping cart full of things. Her hair was long and she was predominantly orange in color.
Then I think I woke up.
