Street lights are shining. Leading my path back home. It's early morning. 4 o'clock.
It's one of those nights you call magic. A summer night. You don't have to wear a jacket, it's still warm enough. I wear this colorful summer-dress. Flowers in my hair. Back to the seventies.
They all sat there around the campfire. It could be sequence out of a music video for a country song. The boys played the guitar, the girls sang along. Some old Bryan Adams songs, "Summer of 69" just to mention one.
Roasting marshmallows. The smell of burnt sugar never tasted so sweet. All the girls made different salads. Eating sausages. Of course, the boys said. No campfire without sausages. The girls laughed about this boyish silliness.
But, they realized it's way more than only eating sausages.
Then there was this moment of silence. You heard nothing beside the cracking noise from the campfire and chirping.
"Thank you for being here with me. It's magic." I said to break through the silent. They all nodded, silently. All of the sudden every one stood up. We held eachothers hand and danced around the campfire. It was wonderful.
I woke up.