Yesterday afternoon, when listening to a spanish tune and remembering Seville...the smell of flowers in the air, horse-carts and Moorish architecture...yes, once I was there...and I saw ladies gaily wave fans and an old caretaker dressed in a ghostly black and who kept long bunches of keys to a castle at her waist and then I recalled an evening garden party I had attended at a villa, for a Louis Vuitton's anniversary event. All around us, people danced the flamenco, laughed, drank and played the guitar.

Near a shrub, someone told fortunes.

Then just like that with the speed of a finger-clip, I realised the beauty of my life and what it was. And of how my dramatic experiences had often triumphed over injustices. And I felt an ephemeral lift of my heart...a sudden surreal moment I couldn't explain.

And then I saw myself buried in the sand and an eagle come to take my troubled soul away. That was a vision I willed myself to have...and after that, my feelings grew more sparkly through the gloom. Yes, an eagle came and the tears hid away. And then I went, oh so far away.