In my dream, P wrote a musical about chickens kept in prison planning great escape. The show was all over the world in small but ambitious culture centres. And when it was coming to Warsaw I took all the people I knew. I was one minute late and everybody was already inside. When I wanted to enter, the ticket controller asked me to pay. I had no money. He said he can’t let me in. My only idea was to tell him I knew P. He said that, in this case, I needed to wait and he left to find P. Meanwhile, the show moved to the place where I was, as it was a musical that was played all over the building. Every room was a stage. Actually, every room was a cage. Everything took place in a cage, each scene in a different cage, the actors moving, not unlike chickens, from cage to cage. The audience had to follow the actors who, again, were dressed like chickens. I was waiting for P, when suddenly I saw the actors, all ages (from 6 to 70) wearing ridiculous costumes. They were singing and dancing, doing push ups, jumping, running all over. You would think this was chaos, but actually it was very organised. These were very deliberate chickens. Finally, I saw my friends again. They too were following the chickens, singing and dancing. And then I saw P. He came straight to me and kissed me. He tasted like eggs.