There's a bigger pattern out there, in the great beyond. It flexes inside an interdimensional portal, granting us passage.
There was a park in front of me, and I was sitting on a bench with a sandwich in my hand. I turned around to look behind me, and at the top of a distant mountain stood a large castle.
Download the dream sequence of an unverified reality. Rename and store the file.
Months later, my brother and I would board a flight to Madrid, Spain. The tour reservations had already been gridlocked into the matrix. The design was there. Yet on the inside, there was an appetite to set foot on a specific location we hadn't planned to visit. The fervor kept silent, but the transmission had been delivered to the hidden waves by heart energy.
The location safeguarded the surname's history and its spirit.
It was on to the Mercado de San Miguel in the evening. Yellow glass petals for walls and the ovule housed several food stations. Pastries in neat rows. Newspaper shrimp cones. Red meat on hooks and octopus on an ice floe. Yet even tapa bites couldn't help me shake off the desire to visit true flower and rhizome.
Through the ebb and flow shout out rays of gold. The universe snatched them and set a different course. In my sleep that night, the waves had gone too deep.
"The tour we reserved for today was canceled. I had to sign us up for another one at random," my brother told me the next morning. We quickly ate breakfast at the hostel and took a taxi to the meetup location. It was there that the magic took shape and fastened.
We boarded a bus that took us to Segovia, Ávila, and Toledo. These were the places Morpheus and Hypnos had stored.
Tyche quickly stamped her mark in Ávila and set the perfect introduction to the new world. The Palacio de los Dávila etched an inscription into the stone: "Where one door closes, another opens." A message from the universe that led us to the vital force.
In Toledo, the main chapel of the Catedral Primada featured sculpted portraits of the Alpha and Omega. It was Hephaestus there who sat on the clouds and showed us masterpiece. On the moonstone roads, there were the markings of the letter Shin (ש), and it was in that moment that I lived the textbooks and relished the sacred old. I walked into Las Juderías and entered a small store, where they wrapped a small tile with the Star of David for me to take home.
Ribbons for an aqueduct in the sky, and beyond it, the Alcázar de Segovia. Here’s where rapid eye movement collided with real treasure. A castle-turned-prison that inspired cartoons. Its walls still house old metals and fabrics for lore. War scars now made Xanadu into a most precious view.
In the end, my brother and I walked to the Mirador de la Pradera de San Marcos and sat on a bench. Our tour guide handed out lunch bags to the group. I grabbed a sandwich out of my bag and looked behind me to live my dream. The Alcázar was no déjà vu.
