Oneiros goes ahead; aleph.

Flaming Horses. That’s what he couldn’t stop thinking of. Flaming horses.
The first instance he had seen them. Or that he thought he had seen one, or imagined. Something like that. It was also the first time he set eyes (and feet) on the merry-go-round of the eucalyptus-laden park. But the park, the carousel and its mechanical organ music don’t exist anymore. Only the thought of flaming horses.