Now that was a dream.
The location was a big house on the edge of town (an invented town).It’s slightly gothic in construction and I seem to be both host and live in domestic service. For whatever reason it’s just me, my partner and our cat in residence.
I’m trying to deal with a kitchen that is collapsing, morphing and shape -shifting. Objects are being sucked into a floor vortex whilst the kitchen fitments are steadily being overcome with dirt and decay. I’m at a sink washing up as the draining board comes and goes. I’m irritated that the sink is the only area clean enough to keep the dirt pots and pans. Those that I do clean and try to place on the draining board often fall through the shifting spaces in the board itself.
The kitchen floor is falling into a mini black hole in the centre of the kitchen (and yes the kitchen floor is tiled in a simple black and white checker board pattern to show the distortions caused by the vortex in the centre of the floor) and I’m trying to work around the all consuming hole as I continue to wash the dishes.
I’m in two places at once in a dream that jump cuts between me fending off idiot celebrity culture zombies on one side of the house who seem intent on invading a wing of the house for their own inane purposes (a zombie celebrity party?) whilst trying to to play host to a distinguished visitor on the other side of the house, namely the late ‘Sunny Jim‘ James Callaghan, former British Prime Minister.
Mr Callaghan is very patient as I often have to pop off to quell the noises from the zombie celebrity party but I manage to make him a nice cup of tea whilst my partner engages in polite conversation with him.
I grab five minutes here and there with Mr Callaghan and he recounts stories from his time in office with lots of background information that perhaps wasn’t made so public.
The dream ends during a moment when the celebrity zombies are beginning to overwhelm my capacity to manage them.
I awoke disappointed that I didn’t get to speak more with Sunny Jim.
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