‘Forgive me, are you explaining what my boots have to do with your nightmare? Have you perhaps dreamt of them not long ago?’
‘For the first time, but in the context of that usual nightmare. The woman and Oblak …"
‘Excuse me the interruption, but … if you want me to be able to understand, you should tell me of your nightmare from the beginning’.
‘How could you help me? Do you perchance know how to enter the minds of others to chase away their demons?’
‘It wouldn’t be the first time. Now, you let me finish off that massage whilst you ─ if you wish ─ confide in me’.
Again feeling the touch of her hands on his neck and shoulders with their precise rhythmic motions suited to ever increasing wellbeing, Ziani related to her the terrible Triestine night blow-by-blow, from the moment
