You're falling asleep. Rare fireworks are going off outside the window. And behind the wall, in the living room, glasses are still clinking, your parents have taken out their guitars and are singing songs about "those at sea" and "the new turn", which you don't like. But you don't care anymore. You plunge into the viscous space of dreams, where you will find yourself an old garage in the suburbs of Lyubertsy, an Italian, rushing down the serpentine on his convertible, a snag on a steep mountainside, a tired passenger on a night bus. Some of this will echo decades later with unexpected deja vu, but much, of course, will be forgotten in the morning, when you suddenly wake up to the smell of potatoes, which your father will heat on a frying pan. And accompanying all these dreams is music that you will later, in the future, unmistakably identify as a mix recorded for 5/8: radio by Maggie Tra, founder of Hanoi Community Radio
