I know two different types of dreams: the ones which aren’t more like a visual rustle inside my head, bits and pieces of something which is just a little bit more than nothing. They are faint, they don’t make sense and they are forgotten as soon as I wake up. The second type of dreams is different and very rare, maybe I had five of these dreams in my whole life. The images inside my head are of an almost movie like quality, there’s a sort of narrative, almost a story and I wake up shocked and confused and rememeber every bit I dreamed. Last night I had one of these dreams: I was sitting in a bus. The driver went very fast although the street was only a sandy track. He was laughing and joking all the time. Suddenly the road went down very steeply, everybody inside the bus was screaming. I looked out of the window and saw a road going parallel to ours. There was a lake, so the road ended as a mole. I saw a huge pole right at the end of the mole. Wrapped around the pole and badly damaged a huge piece of metal: the complete left side of a car as I recognized now. There must have happened a bad accident. Nothing to see of the rest of the car. The bus driver stopped the bus. Nobody said a word. We all watched a small yellow car (one of the new Fiat 500) stopping on the mole. The doors openend. Than our bus driver stepped on the gas and I saw three men – probably the guys who were sitting in the fiat – running after us. One of the guys, he was around 50 screamed all the time in french: ” al’ ecole!! al’ ecole!!!” which means “to school” but I understood immediatlely that he meant “help!” So I answered him in German, tried to calm him down and said him that he could speak German, because everybody on the bus was German. He turned to the other guy who now has reached the bus as well, about the same age, German too, and said to him in fluent French: “After having spoken French for so long it will be nice to speak some German, wouldn’t it?” They both laughed. I looked at them unbelievingly. It was the typical behaviour of Germans in foreign countries: they have to tell everybody that they know the contry the language and it’s people best. Than they started to talk German to us and asked us for help.
When we reached the mole the car wreck gets pulled out of the water. It’s a grey Opel which looks really bad. The mole has turned into a huge esplanade. On the right hand side I see the two victims of the car crash. They are wrapped in two identicals plankets, brown with leaves and trees on it, even their heads are covered. Obviously ambulance isn’t there yet. One of the victims is motionless the other one is moving convulsively. There’s a woman lying next to the moving one. She holds here right arm tight around the planket and tries to comfort the person under the planket: “Help is coming soon.” Where the victim’s had is supposed to be, the planket is soaked with blood. A black hat lies on the ground between the two victims. I walk on. Suddenly I’m on my own in the middle of a huge industrial plant.