I would assume that I am not alone having dreams relating to the 2020 pandemic. This is the second Covid-19 dream I have had this year, it goes something like this …
I am inside an Italian hotel bar, I am alone. The room is long and narrow, it has a minimal brutalist style with smooth grey concrete walls. I sit on comfortable forest-green floor cushions and watch the morning sunshine flood into the room. The light is so bright it appears to eradicate all shadows.
I become aware of a noisy vocal commotion emitting from somewhere in the hotel, the voices that echo into the bar sound excited, almost joyful.
I find myself standing in an airy reception. Like the bar, the reception is clean, minimal and bright. A handful of guests mill about, and here-and-there smartly dressed staff stand silent and motionless.
Cold air blows into the reception via open glass doors. Outside stands the hotel manager, he is laughing and moving around like an excited child. There are more guests outside, they flit around him like bees around a hive.
I am now outside with the manager and the other guests. We have become the audience to three singing men.
The singing men are young, perhaps in their mid twenties and appear to be brothers. They have thin, wispy white beards, they look painfully thin and are dressed in dark three-piece suits.
They stand in the cold and sing in an ancient language only they can understand. They sing a passionate, heartfelt song with deep low voices, they sound much older than their years.
Their harmonies become louder, more powerful, and as they sing white vapours spew from their mouths, it streams out into the cold mountain air and directly into the faces of their audience.
I quickly step back into the hotel and shout warnings to the crowd, the air is filled with cloudy virus and I plead with them to retreat.
Instead they linger outside, they laugh and breath in the foggy infected air.
I wake, another Covid nightmare.
Posted: by Leeroy.
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