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Bjorn woke up right before the alarm on his mobile was about to go off. He had slept like a log and felt superbly well rested despite having had one of his uncomfortable dreams. The medicine must have taken the sting out of the dream. He had been more active in his dream than usual, defending himself as it were, holding the goblins at a distance and refusing to succumb to despair.

There had been the usual episode with him and his ex. But this time he had a ready answer for her. He was where he was because he felt like it, and with that simple answer she was gone. However, she returned later in his dream, this time with a sheet of paper in her hand. It was the official inheritance document which he had sent to the local tax office for them to calculate the inheritance tax. It was the document that had put him hopelessly in debt to the tax office, and when she asked him why he had signed it Bjorn was again lost for words.

But he did not react in despair. He simply observed that his ex had a point, and that he should not have signed it, at least not before checking that the stipulated value of the inheritance was in fact correct. It was a stupid mistake, a ruinous mistake, but nevertheless an understandable one. He had acted in good faith. He had nothing to be ashamed of. If anyone should be ashamed, it was his ex for abandoning him as soon as it was clear that he was bankrupt and in eternal debt to the state.

The thought of his hopeless economic situation did not bother him even as he rose out of bed. The situation was as it was, and he had to deal with it as such. Lamenting the situation was not going to set anything right. And this insight was strangely liberating. There had to be a solution to the problem, he felt, and he could almost hear his children beg him to do it, whatever they meant by that. "Do it for us," they had pleaded in his dream, begging him to take some action, and Bjorn had replied, "yes of course," as if he had understood exactly what they meant and knew exactly what to do.

However, these were but episodes in a larger dream dominated by the citizens of Lundby, but also featuring people like Odd the painter, and Ingunn with her wild and surreal interpretation of the world. Odd had painted a ship for her on a large canvas, and she stepped into it as if it was a real ship. "Let us join Jesus and Mother Earth in holy matrimony," she exclaimed from the stem of the ship. And with those words it sailed out of the canvas on a cloud of frothy water. Then, to everyone's consternation, she vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving a large blank spot on the canvas.

The vanishing act took place in Pedro's apartment. Bjorn was there together with a large group of people. They had come to see the painting, and now it was ruined. Odd was there too, and immediately picked up his pencils to repair the damage, excusing himself for having painted the ship a little too life like.

"This is what happens when you invite people like Ingunn to your house," Frederico commented dryly to Pedro in the back of the room.
Pedro chuckled and shook his head. He did not seem the least bit concerned about what had just happened. "It is a good thing we have Odd here, isn't it?" he commented. Then he pointed to Bjorn, calling out his name and telling him to behave on Tuesday, making it clear that it would be a grave mistake to disappoint him.

Bjorn did not know what to say, but Katinka was suddenly there, right next to him. "It's quite simple, really," she explained. "The whole thing is a network. If you push the red button and then make a quick calculation before pushing the green button, you'll be fine. But whatever you do, do not push the green button before the red."
"Is that so?" Bjorn asked, puzzled.
"Nah, just beat him about the head with a plank," Einar suggested. "That's the quickest and easiest solution."
"You're mad," Bjorn protested.
Then he heard a cold feminine voice asking "who you calling mad?" When Bjorn turned to look, he stared into the ice cold gaze of Jan's two daughters. Behind them stood Ane and Ola, both dressed like villains from an old Western. "You should be a little careful about who you call mad down here in good old Lundby," Ane added, putting her hand on the handle of the large pistol strapped to her thigh.
"Oh my. Here we go again!" said another voice. It was Olga, and she was clearly unimpressed by the other ladies. "It's all show and no substance. Take no notice of them."
Tyrone was there too, chuckling to himself. "If you think Lundby is crazy, you should try Liberia," he said, smiling from ear to ear. "That's crazy, if you know what I mean."

And then there was suddenly music. Elisabeth and Aung started singing, and everybody were praising the Lord and swinging from side to side. "Hallelujah, hallelujah. Praise the Lord. We are the citizens, and we will inherit the Earth."

There was much more to the dream, but Bjorn was getting ready for breakfast, and his memory of the dream was fading rapidly. However, the overall feel of the dream stuck with him. The fact that he had not woken up with a start was a victory to him. He had observed and even enjoyed the challenges in his dream. The medicine had definitely helped calm his nerves, and he felt ready to face the world. Not with apprehension, but with anticipation. He was genuinely looking forward to what the day might bring.