During my afternoon siesta, I dreamt that I saw a car out of which thick steam was rising. It was a black BMW covered with dust. The steam was coming out of the two radiator grilles in its front. The scene came to me twice, and I woke up each time. The steam suggested the motor was about to catch on fire and explode. Both times I went back to sleep, though. Anyhow, there is no better way to survive the afternoon heat. At the moment, it is twenty-eight degrees Celsius in my house. The rising steam was actually coming out of my boiling head.