Pálin, "back" ...

Do geese see god?  (En.) and cinic (Ro.) are my favorite palindromes.

I dreamed that I was in a building opposite to the one in which I grew up. It was a hotel. Not mine, the one across from it. I was looking through a window. Some kids were sleighing on a mound, despite its mixed patch of snow and ground. One could see the earth breathing. That did not stop the kids.

I was behind a sheer curtain, fascinated by their ambitious plan. They started to run as if they would launch their bodies into the air. Their cheeks were red. I couldn't hear anything except for their giggles. Then, in the middle of my being lost in a reverie, I realized that there was never a mound across from the building in which I grew up. I shook my head. Even in dreams, I'd rather stay away from logic. Even there, I feel tempted to disrupt whatever should match my recollection. 

I woke up with FB already caught in its predictable tangle, repeating the same news ad nauseam: "This Sunday, 020202020, is a rare palindrome!" "This Sunday, 02022020, is a ..." This felt like an iron. My hands were burning. I was holding one piece of hot coal. Someone must have put it in my hands to see if I'd rather wake up or go back to sleep, if I'd rather stay in reality or let that coal smolder, heating the remains of my body, and then, ---