THE LETTER

It is not usual for me to wake up in the middle of the night shaking from a dream and decide to jump at the paper to write it down or at least take some notes. And this is not because, on the exceptional occasions when a worthwhile dream ever crossed my mind I was too lazy to break my sleep and do it. Probably this is not right for a person who tries to live his life like a writer, but I must confess that I’m not an industrious one. Last night was different because this was the dream of my life, the dream to end all dreams. The dream that now is real and for sure is going to twist my ordinary world if I let it.
Thus, this morning at about half past three, I suddenly jolted awake from my bed and with that excitement still fresh I took the notepad and wrote: “It was so real, so believable. Original, authentic and different to others; the most corporeal I ever had. I was feeling its particular smell, the smell of money everywhere; too much money for me. Banknotes like wallpaper covering the walls of my room. A mosaic of coins for a floor. A ceiling with an enormous pound coin glowing like a big sun. Beautiful women with notes in their mouths and coins as nipples, throwing me out of bed because there was not enough space for all of us. I was at a party in a huge sumptuous hall full of old long-gone friends dressed like fashionable millionaires, dancing, smiling and shaking my hand. A luxury orchestra with my lost first love singing for me Mad about the boy... Boats, jets, cars... Sea, sun, amazing blue skies... And I wasn’t happy at all. Why has this dream left me shaking? Why was it so real?” Then I went back to sleep again with an anxious but contented smile.
Later that morning, before breakfast, I read again the words I wrote just hours before. I felt some kind of funny feeling, a premonition, but I smiled at my madness and forgot about it. After my sacred daily breakfast I pondered at my writing table for a couple of hours. Then shortly afterwards went to look at my mail. I could not believe my eyes. Something inside me experienced an extraordinary vertigo, a sort of sensation as if I was coming down a scenic railway. I was holding a letter it told me my dream had come true.

At this moment I’m scared, almost terrified. Writing these thoughts. Reading and re-reading the letter I now have in front of me makes me realise it is addressed to me. Trying to be conscious I’m not still dreaming. Pinching to reassure myself I’m wide-awake.
A normal person probably would be crying with happiness, phoning family and close friends, running to buy bottles of the most expensive champagne; making plans about buying a big new house, an exorbitant brand new car, exclusive holidays around the world; imagining hitting his boss, quitting his position and after that buying the whole damn company; sending precious jewels and posh presents to his lover, making love to his wife as it for the first time... Getting absolutely out of control.

Is this dream for me? Should I let it go?
Maybe you think I’m crazy but I’m scared, terrified. I’m feeling under threat. Should I remain as I was in the minutes before this letter came to my ordinary world? Should I forget about that dream that came true? But... How can I resist the scream of this enormous fortune?
Unexpectedly, money is yelling at my world with its irresistible and powerful voice. What should I do?