My mouth with a cough sweet in it.
I am still coughing in the night and I must have woken myself up again, because I remember I dreamt last night about being in a car in a city. I had just arrived by plane. The car was driving through the streets and there was a strange horizontal glowing gash in the sky, like a horizontal slash with an intense dark green inside it.
A vertical column of various cloudy greys – whooshed up from among the buildings to join the green gash.
And then, looking over, I saw between high buildings, the top of another tall building falling at 45 degrees; it was toppling over. It had a pyramidal top, like the Canary Wharf tower in London, but I was not in London; I was abroad somewhere.
It was not a nightmare, just a dream.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” I thought.
In a couple of weeks, I am probably going to Kiev for the weekend, to attend a Burns Supper on 31st March, despite the fact Burns Night is 25th January.
Kiev is 62 miles south of Chernobyl.
I drove to Greenwich last night and passed through the Blackwall Tunnel with the Canary Wharf tower’s pyramidal top flashing its white light in the night.
I don’t know which is stranger – the way the mind twists reality into surreality or the fact that a Burns Night is being held in Kiev on 31st March.
There is something about that picture and the word “gash” which is putting me right off my breakfast……….
I like to think of dreams as a sort of screen saver for the mind, when I was a kid I had a job putting supplements in to Sunday newspapers and having seen their face 1000 times that morning, I would dream about whoever was on the cover. Which was great when it was Jenny Agutter or Sam Fox but not so great when it was Dickie Davis or Elton John.
I would have thought, if you saw Dickie Davis, you would dream of badgers…
and Jenny Agutter beavers I assume?