I am an absolute genius. but only when I am asleep. I speak several languages, play the violin, compose beautiful sonatas, and write wonderful stories,and movie scripts. But these moments of sheer genius appear permanently trapped in the confiment of my neurons: Last night I was a dancer. I choreographed a beautiful dance to Edith Piaf's La vie a rose. I remember how enthralled I was with the movements of my body, the graceful swaying of my arms, the strech of my legs in a leap, and the caress of air in my fingertips. Of course, i can't remember the choreography. But at the end of the song I turned to find myself face to face with Lorena, my childhood best friend. The funny thing about Lorena is that she is a ballerina in real life. the other funny thing is, I haven't seen her in 11 years since I left Mexico. Yet, there she was, slender, tall, and graceful as always and as old as i was. she said words to me i cant remember. she smiled, and then the rest is clouds of darkenss.