You saw a flash of light and a thunder rolled in from the sea. You feel dissy that night, the feeling getting worse as the fog creeps up from the port, nightmares of sea creatures engulfing your soul torments your mind. You awake with a sudden jerk to the morning sun. You dont know how or why but you remember a paper article about a mystic doctor claiming to see trough dreams the past, present and future of mankind.
You search trough the pile of old newspapers and you find the article:
You suddenly remember more from your dream, a voice whispering about the old one that walks the spaces between thoughts, and the urgency to find and talk to the Doctor.
You notice the name of the journalist signing the article and rapidly think to contact him. You arrive at the La Nacion Argentina newspaper by foot from your hostel. You see press corps at their cars waiting for a call to rush off, a street musician is playing a tango tune on his accordion at the corner your at. Some people are listening and nodding at the skill the musician have. He sing with a raspy voice a tune about love and despair, his voice bears years of alcohol abuse.