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Eight (and one half)

This one, I think, has something to do with a computer game, and seeing someone I know/knew in the street, after assuming he was still living in Utah (which he had done). In addition, and totally non related, yesterday evening some men engaged in a bottle fight outside my house. I was in that weird transitional phase of sleep, where the night's reality blended with odd hallucinations. I woke in the morning asking Zoe why we hadn't reacted to the combination of fighting men and church bells ringing to alert people of the coming apocalypse. She informed me the latter didn't happen. The men weren't fighting each other for 'survival' as I had imagined.

'On a train, a GNER one before they went all National Express (quite why I was bothered by this at 4am when I wrote it I will never remember), with a man swathed in a headscarf. For the whole of this dream my eyes fail to properly work, and I rub and blink repeatedly hoping they will become fixed. The train goes down a steep hill and has to stop because the tunnel it wants to go through is blocked. Dang. Some of us get out and walk. It looks like Stalker, or rather the book Roadside Picnic. Myself and David Leah, who appears as some bandaged transsexual, rush ahead into an industrial style lift, leaving bemused passengers behind. Having followed it up, we get out and emerge in to an abandoned warehouse. We are surrounded by knackered furniture, which I climb over. I follow some stairs up, past a series of small fires, all the time feeling something terrible has happened, like humanity has collapsed, and our pointless little world with it. Someone is chasing me now, I hear footsteps behind me, so I climb higher and higher. The person or thing is gaining. At the top of the stairs is a piece of MDF, which symbolises the end of the dream.'
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