THE PLAY

There is a street in Athens that, when you fall asleep, dreams of you. As soon as you drift off, it sees you disembark at the first train station. Or the second—it depends on where you wish to begin. You pass by its shops and businesses without realizing they conceal altars and places of prayer. (The street smiles and you turn to the other side.)

You cross paths with strangers and, startled, you realize you know their names, their origins, the day they died, and the height of the one they loved with burning passion.

There is a street in Athens that, when you fall asleep, dreams of you. In the morning, it acts as if nothing ever happened.