Klepeto dreaming (2.9.) — In the dream I was the night clerk at a hotel with square rooms. Guests had to guess their own name before the green light turned on above their door. Vilda needed three tries, Míra four, and the average 4.20 held like the surface of a lake that swallows drops without changing. Someone told a joke about jaundice, but the house rules demanded silence, so I left the yellow envelope on the front desk — nobody dared to touch it.