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Madrid | The Dreamweaver


While eating breakfast, my phone alarm sounded at eleven a.m.


I couldn’t imagine what it was for as I was certain I hadn’t anything to do, especially seeing it was a Sunday.


But when I walked over to window sill where my phone had been charging in the all but empty house, I was aghast at seeing the calendar entry and its single bold-texted word: MADRID.


I took a moment to collect my thoughts as my wife was looking at me waiting to see what had made me gasp.


Our train to Madrid leaves Coruña in ninety minutes, I said.


Flustered and angry, my wife ran upstairs and began closing our suitcases while I went next door to tell Mr. Lara I had made a terrible mistake and he’d have to drive us to Coruña today, and now!


Lara said his son had taken the van to Ferrol to help his girlfriend’s father move some things to their chalet and wouldn’t be back until late.


He said we’d have to take his car, and pointed to some old jalopy that looked like an 80s-era Málaga.


We arrived at the train station just on time and, as we took our seats, I placed a call to our realtor in Madrid to advise her of the error.


She said it wouldn’t be a problem and told me she would leave the keys with a neighbor.


We arrived in Madrid and took a taxi over to the flat and collected our keys from the elderly man who lived a few floors below us.


I was somewhat startled upon opening the door as I noticed the flickering of what appeared to be flames at the end of the foyer.


We quickly closed the door and ran into the living room to find it beautifully lit by candles.


As the electricity had yet to be switched on, the realtor had left the candles burning and, if that wasn’t enough, she’d bought a large Japanese futon that was placed right in the middle of the room. There was also a stack of clean bed linens on a whicker chair beside the futon which were washed (in unscented detergent) and meticulously ironed and folded. I was amazed to see that everything still had their price tags.


On a small table, the realtor had also left a bottle of wine, a baguette and cheese and a beautiful fruit basket.


Then I woke up.

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