Skip to main content

Number 2

This was a classic example of my being in three states; 1) asleep and imagining this scenario 2) half waking and assuming it is happening in real life and 3) writing it down

'I am woken by the sound of something smashing outside the window in the room where I sleep. I don't pull back the curtain, as I know it is some sort of fire bomb, possibly constructed from a tennis ball and matchheads, like that found in a certain cookbook. In the morning, I am outside in the road, collecting bits of paper and detritus the bomb seems to have left in its wake. A Japanese girl is helping me clear the street. We appear to be cohabiting; I am unsure if there is a sexual relationship. She is wearing shorts and a tshirt, in a very 80's style, and explains to an elderly gentleman who happens to be passing what has happened. He mumbles something in Japanese that I cannot understand. I look at the details on his wrinkled face and wonder why I am living somewhere where I understand no-one. We live in a nondescript flat, around three stories up.'

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fifty Six

In the past few weeks I was getting a little worried that my lack of memorable midnight recollections would end this chart of nocturnal wanderings, but in the last week or so, I have remembered around 3 dreams a night; in the process of doing so, I have started using my phone to note things down rather than a pad and pen, and then email myself so I actually remember I have the material. Remembering is half the battle. This dream I thought pertinent as I have just finished marking student essays for Spring Term (and presumably this is what inspired it) 'I am circling some sort of warehouse, possibly owned and run by Argos. Inside, a number of my students have killed a man by beating him to death. They now fall about laughing whilst bouncing off inflatable children’s toys. I try to remain stoic in the face of horror, concerned that I may be next. I talk to them a while, and on finding out that ____ is their ring leader, I try to escape. Every path leads back to the warehouse. Insi...

Sixty Eight

In some sort of wasteland, possibly Malton from urbandead but in reality. The buildings and general lay out of the space appears to be a grid system, dark green, crisscrossing and bisecting the land; it resembles a giant board game. The sky is muted orange, and I have a feeling there is something lurking in the increasing shadows that dusk has introduced. Someone who I am with shows me around their flat. From the window I see abandoned car parks, and in the distance lakes and mountains, though this view is partially obscured by smoke rising from refineries that seem to encircle the town. The light is falling away. No-one is on the street when I am taken to the next house. The view from the window is the other house. Each subsequent place I am shown around offers a view of the preceding property. I am caught in a loop of property viewing, with some unknown menace responsible for the trap I find myself in.

Fifty One

'Spending time living in a valley, where the only access is one road in and out. Everyone I explain this to seems confused by how a road can only go in two directions, suggesting an understanding of directional space I am not privy to. In a hut on one side of the valley I find some serum in a jar that tells me if I drink it that I’ll forget whatever I’m dreaming about. I am reminded of Alice in Wonderland. In the valley bottom, I drink from the jar in front of a small circle of onlookers. Rather than forget, or mutate or something, what actually happens is the sky changes from blue to red, and the sun becomes a cut out child’s collage of various spiky colours, similar to the front cover of an album for Mount Vernon Art Labs which was designed by the friend of someone who once spoke to me at a conference, but subsequently abandoned in favour of Julian House's designs when the band released the record with Ghost Box. I also own a jeep.'