I suddenly realized that I should be working in a certain college department that I'd left several years ago, instead of whatever it was I was doing, most likely fiddling around with one of my own projects, so I dashed across campus to that department to get back to work before my absence was noted.
Then one of the computing lecturers asked if I'd help them out. A piece of equipment was badly in need of repair. My task completed, the guy kindly offered to take me to the pub for lunch in appreciation. At this point I found myself in the back seat of a car with him in the passenger seat and his wife at the wheel. I squeezed in the back seat, beside another charming lady. The man's wife appeared to be an expert driver, but I was slightly unnerved to find her hurtling down a long, steep, twisting hill in reverse! Heck, she was looking over her shoulder to see where she was going; and at one and the same time, I was both enjoying the exhilaration of the ride, yet also mentally bracing myself for an almighty rear end shunt. Fortunately we survived the journey with our bodies and our sanity intact.
After we'd safely alighted and were wandering through town, the dream got a little passionate, shall we say. My friend in the rear seat proved to be delightful and intelligent company, and we actually engaged in perfectly rational conversations. She appeared to be wearing nothing more than a long fur coat and was somewhat prone to wardrobe malfunctions; but this is a family show, so we'd best not go there. As happens so often, just before the point of no return, I abruptly woke up, muttering under my breath about the injustices of life.
I think perhaps that I may accidentally leave my patch on again tonight, as you do, and hope to take up again where that dream left off, in such stimulating company. Dreamer discretion is advised, however, as sometimes events can turn into quite horrific nightmares. Please be assured that no furry animal was harmed in the enactment of this dream.
Painting: Detail from Dickens's Dream (1875), by Robert William Buss (1804–1875).
• By Etienne de L'Amour ~ Google+
