Mr Olaf Mary, one of our non-communicative travel correspondents, previously reported missing, has sent photographs of his new digs in Morocco.
His report, unlike many of our travel correspondences, exclusively details his subconscious travels:
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Friend!
Last night, do you remember?
I met you in Monterey, as if you lived their.
I was trapped in a cafe with two sixteen year old girls who were telling me about their first sexual experience.
Then I walked along the boardwalk.
Then I met you and we walked back to your place. I was explaining to you that the situation was not right. That I was, in fact, dreaming in Morrocco that I should not be there in Monterey and that I desperately needed to return. But how? And Monterey looks so different. And you dont live in Monterey but here (there) you are with a house and a lovely backyard, which I said I had not spent any time within, and I noticed you had a very regimented and bountiful selection of pills and vitamins. Your house was very modern, crisp, clean. You didnt seem bothered by my botheration, my insistance that I am dreaming in Morrocco and so what the hell am I doing in Monterey with you.
It was terrifying at moments. Maybe I would be stuck forever in this dream reality land of Not Monterey, Not Morrocco. I would close my eyes, trying to force them to open in my blue and white room in Morrocco.
This happened with time and concentration as I lay on your well groomed front lawn.
Did this happen to you also?
wish you were here Find some money and come stay with me Plenty of space, beautiful town
always and forever
Mary
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