„This is a work of fiction. “Diana, what are you doing? She was a gorgeous girl, and she was usually the center of attention anywhere we went. As if she had heard my thought, she turned her head towards me. The books did not give me anything more than I had already known: it was a holy place, like many others, where miracles would happen. Or that I could just call her and she would answer every time. Just then a huge truck, with deafening horns, came furiously down the slope, toward us …
I woke up all sweaty, my hands pushing the nonexistent wheel and trying – I do not remember for how many times and for how many dreams? Is this what I wanted? Thinking about her continued to torment to me so strongly that even if I felt the chemistry of the sleeping pill trying to defeat me, I simply could not fall asleep.