Updated: Aug 29, 2021
I was walking around Valencia with my guitar and ran into Genevieve, the young Australian woman who lived with my family in Valencia during her gap year as a teenager, who told me she was in a hurry and asked if I'd like to share a taxi so we could have some time to catch up.
Upon getting into the taxi, she accidentally sat on my hand, creating somewhat of an awkward, but icebreaking moment that we both soon laughed off.
Before I knew it, she had seen the friends she was supposed to meet and, at the next traffic light, got out of the taxi and jumped into her friend's car waving goodbye to me from the back seat.
The taxi continued on through Valencia's heavy mid-day traffic when I suddenly realized we were heading to the other side of town. Also realizing that I hadn't given my address to the driver, he looked at his watch, said it was nearly lunchtime and that he was going home to eat with his family.
Half angered, half apologetic, I told him I wouldn't pay the fare unless he drove me to my destination, which I erroneously told him was the calle Micer Mascó.
Resigned to the fact that he had to drive me home or lose a fare, we arrived and, for some reason, he felt compelled to walk me to my door.
Just then, I realized I had forgotten my guitar in the back seat of his taxi as I had jumped into the front seat during our heated discussion about his completing the journey.
While it was about a five-minute walk back to the taxi and there were some stone steps to walk up, he angrily gave me the keys and told me to walk back and get the guitar myself.
I finally reached the stone stairs I had to once again navigate to get to the taxi.
Then I woke up.
* Originally manifested on 29 August 2018