By Vika Trenas
Translation: Arch Tait
I dreamed I was falling through ice, realising suddenly I could not breathe beneath it, that no one was coming to my rescue. There were people there, though, on the far side. I could see their figures, through the ice.
I dreamed I was telephoning people no longer in this world and they were answering the phone. I dreamed I was being used in a shooting gallery for target practice. I was being shot at and my body was becoming porous like a sponge.
I dreamed of all my earlier lives and that to each of them I shall devote a separate book. So many things I dreamed before I woke in a cold sweat. What of it?
I was not in just some port on the Baltic, a place in the infinite universe outside. I was at home, in the land I love.