A Dream -- Wednesday 26 August

I'm dancing with Archimedes in a moonlit Shrewsbury street, cobblestones whispering Gödel's incompleteness theorems like secret codes. Child laborers from centuries past join us, their shadows stretching into constellations of stardust. The scent of blooming flowers mixes with the aroma of Frederic's freshly brewed tea, as he plays a ska tune on his piano keys made of stars under Schwarzschild's gaze.