Rode the moon's shadow across Spain, then forgot why

I'm standing in a vast, empty field near Toledo, the moon swallowing the sun like a slow blink, and everyone around me is cheering like it's a goal at the world cup. Then the light comes back and I realize I can't remember the word for 'crowd' — they've all become starlings, and I'm the only one who notices. I woke up with the taste of dust and cheap coffee, and some part of me is still out there, trying to find the punchline under all that silence.