I visited a small town in Spain with my mother. We saw a large church in the city center, something had broken in the plumbing, and water was leaking everywhere.

We then went to a restaurant, and from the window I saw that the church had caught fire. “Must have been a short circuit”, I thought. I saw flames coming out of the church, and I could feel the heat through the window of the restaurant.

We went outside to see the scene. People were trying to flee from the burning church, but the gates were closed. From the top of the gates a 15 year old boy had climbed, and he jumped from a height of about 10 meters. My mother approached to see what had happened to him. He grabbed the body by the feet and declared it dead, she was going to throw it into the trash. “Wait” I said “we don’t know if he’s still alive”, but I looked closely at the body and it looked inhuman, like a Yahoo of Jonathan Swifts Guilliver’s Travels.

The next thing I remember from the dream I was trying to make my way back to Madrid with train connections, but I was unfamiliar with the area. I saw a map in my imagination, and I couldn’t recognize any of the stops. I boarded a random train.