Only a bad dream

We were, I suppose, close to Ezeiza.


The glory of the morning was blue because of the sky and the ozone (there are some days when May falls, the days when May falls over there).

The skyey sheet was like a tall mirror of vaseline extended over the huge oval jacket of the universe

that oval womb that never ever ends, and that paradoxically is over us, and under us

we were close to a zone called Transradio Internacional, that in this moment I can't remember well if it's closer to Almirante Brown, or Luis Guillon

I was feeling very sad, with a sadness that came from the future.

The tall and cold grass of the zone still had some frost from the dawn (the exact moment of the congelation in the suburbia during later May, June and July is at 5.34 a.m.)

the jeep in which we were, was reaching a zone of burned grass and abandoned factories with their desolate hangars and their pale-red brick walls: I just cannot explain why that was a military zone nor why could I be there, in 1969

and there was excessive oxygen, which tasted like gas in the tongue.

 
The place was full of reactors that started shining silvery at the blue of the polythene of the sky

we knew that we were taken there for a reason, but we didn't know exactly which.

But we knew that we had a presage.

And what the presages are? What, but the remembrance, with fear, of things already lived?

 
SI unit capacitors were surrounding the camouflaged jeeps in order to power one of the oddest things that I've ever seen.

Soldiers were being ejected from the Earth.

They were ejected to the space, catapulted, by an effect of dielectric field.
The height that they reached was variable, according to the mission: some, just 500.000 feet
others were ejected up to an altitude that was near to the Moon.

They had ultra resistant cords tied to their suits, on the back.
These cords were like thin, white and flexible diaphragms.


Like lamias.


Men, ejected to clean the satellites from the stellar dung accumulated, to sweep the Moon.
Men, ejected towards the airy and blue amplitudes, until the molecules of the capacitors became polarized or the mission was accomplished.

From the scary distances of the cold, they communicated their fear by means of low-frequency signals, as far as I knew later. Why fear?

Astrophobia.


The static amplitude around the whole place was increased due to the sine waves or the impedance: 
we knew that we would be ejected there.

No-one said a word.




The Sun was rising full of air, ricocheting on the strange aeronauts, like pearls floating in the azure while I was feeling something missing inside of me.

 
Like an atavic and blurred deja-vu from the future.











































              "Only a bad dream."