A dream of angels

A day in heaven

My eyes close. I breathe out, then wake up. Where am I? In heaven? “No. But almost.” whispers a gentle voice. My eyelids flutter open, I am floating - at least it feels like it, light as a feather. I look round. There is no one there - who is speaking? I get up and my feet touch the warm floor. All is quiet. Where am I? “You're with the angels.” I can't see anyone. “Who are you?” I ask, timidly. The only answer I get is the soft padding of my bare feet. I go out of the room where I was standing. A narrow hallway leads me further. Blue water glistens behind a glass door. I go through. Is this heaven? “No. But almost.” I feel the whispering in my ear. “Who are you?”, I repeat, also whispering. “It's me,” comes the answer, “your angel.” And suddenly all the questions leave my head, I feel safe, secure - at home. “Come on! I will show you where you are!” And I follow the sweet voice, mute, excited, fearless.
Water music
The voice leads me to the bright blue water and I touch the surface with my fingertips. It is unexpectedly warm as I get in. “Over here!” There is a pretty stone basin on the floor in a corner: the water is not deep, but it is cold. I wade through. Now I'm awake! My feet carry me onwards, past cosy bed niches and through a door, outside to where everything is white. Small clouds of breath escape from my mouth but I don’t feel cold. Another pool of water, two in fact! Steam rises from both, while the water bubbles in the smaller one.

And so we walk on, me and the sweet voice of my angel. We walk through the silent building, we wander through the princely rooms, through the restaurant where an extensive buffet is laid out as if in a painting, through the corridors and halls and lounges. And then we walk out of the building and into the mountains. It seems as if I am flying, but of course I am not, the soles of my feet cross the floor and feel it, now cool, now warm, with sensations of pebbles, prickles, soft snow. I giggle quietly. Where exactly am I? “Up there is where we want to go!”, sounds the voice, and I instinctively look up at the sparkling white mountain peaks. “And then we will fly back down like the wind!”, the voice giggles with me.
High – in the mountains!
So we do it, we slog up and whiz down, on our legs, is that even possible? So many questions that come up only now that I am drunk with happiness. Where am I anyway? What am I doing here? But I'm not looking for answers. I let my angel guide me. So we pass through the mountains, flying, whizzing, zooming. Time seems to stand still. Or maybe it has ceased to exist?

“We are going home, come on!”, says the voice and we trudge back to the building through the snow. I find myself once more at the door of the room where I was before – but when? - dazed by the adventure that has flown past so quickly, even though I felt it took forever. “Goodbye!” whispers the voice in my ear and yet I don't understand. Where am I?

My eyes open. I breathe in, then wake up. Where was I? In heaven? My eyelids flutter open. No one is there. And no voice is whispering to me. There is just quiet piano music in my ear, then I hear muffled steps. Then the door opens - and I suddenly realise. I am actually with the angels! Not in heaven, true, but almost. I am at the Hotel Engel, in the mountains, in the Dolomites. And I have fallen asleep during the sound massage, when I dreamt of the adventures of my day spent here, light as a feather, a day that is now coming to an end…
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