I am not a big one for dreaming - well at least not for remembering dreams. They float away and disintegrate like smoke. I just cannot hang onto them. However, this morning as wakefulness approached, a disturbing dream happened and some of it has remained with me.
I was sitting in the corner of a sunlit cafe with some other people. I don't know who they were. Then who should walk into the cafe but the legendary Welsh blogger , John Gray.
He was a slightly younger version of his present self. His beard was neatly trimmed and he smelt of scented shower cream and shampoo. His skin gleamed as if it had recently been oiled.
This was the first time that I had ever met him and I reached out my right hand for a manly handshake, saying, "John, how lovely to meet you!"
But he ignored my gesture and silently swooped down to kiss my cheek. It would have been my lips but I managed to shift the target at the last moment when I realised what was happening.
He seemed affronted when he sat at the table and I was so shocked that I didn't know what to say. This was, after all, the first time in my adult life that I had ever been kissed by a man.
I suppose it wasn't really a dream. It was veering towards nightmare territory. I hope that readers of this blogpost will not read stuff into it by suggesting murky psychological undercurrents.
Anyway it shook me out of my slumbers and I came downstairs for a pint of tea and a bowl of honey nut cornflakes with slices of banana to watch recorded images of the amazing Platinum Jubilee concert from Buckingham Palace on our television set. Even so, the dream refused to disappear entirely.
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/sTCPgXR
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