'Ben Barry, who I have not seen in reality for a good many years, has a vendetta against me. I am returning from a shopping trip with my Dad (Marty Crane from Frasier) and as we leave the lift, Ben is there with an accomplice who I am unable to see. He has a bag of bottles filled with petrol and a lighter which won't work. He tells me to 'fucking watch it.' I go inside, put the shopping down and call my brother, who by a small leap of logic, is Kelsey Grammer. He suggests calling the police. I do this, but as I open my door to check if Ben is still around, he runs at me, knocking me to the floor. In the hallway outside the apartment (tall building with remarkably few stairs, seemingly built where the Galaxy is in Luton) he tries to light the petrol bombs and gut my apartment. I grab the flame - oddly it doesn't burn my hands - and throw Ben to the floor. Then I run, down the stairs and out in to the quad, which is an odd mix of Luton and Birmingham, everything garish and neon lit for no discernible reason. Someone offers to hide me but I decline, instead sitting in a pub and thinking about the fact I have killed a man – this is only now apparent to me; the act of shoving Ben over actually killed him, though I don't remember this really happening. I decide to call the police and explain. They are already in my building and have decided I was right to kill Ben. There will be no trial. Kelsey Grammer calls to congratulate me.'
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...
Comments