I dreamt that I was walking through one of London’s train stations. It was Kings Cross or Liverpool Station, or some combination of the two. My beloved was in town since a few days ago, and I was going to meet with her. Out of the blue, I remembered that I had not been in touch with my parents. Since my beloved arrived, I had not send them a single mobile-phone message, let alone gave them a call. As I was thinking of things to tell my parents, I bumped into a woman I barely knew. Looking Iranian, and wearing a funny maroon hat, she had quite a bit of make-up around her dark eyes. She was delighted to see me, and she kept referring to me as a “wild” one. My parents uppermost on my mind, I had no idea what she was talking about. I could not remember where or how we met. As I was trying to extricate myself from her clutches, I woke up. I immediately felt relieved when I realized that there was no need to get in touch with my parents. Both of them are long dead. And then I realized that the person I have not been in touch with by phone was actually my beloved, who was sleeping right next to me. Since she arrived in Motovun a few days ago, my phone has been idling on the dining table most of the time.