It is very very rare that I remember my dreams. Perhaps once every six months. In fact, I don’t think I have remembered a dream the whole of this year. I wish I could.
This morning, I woke up from a dream and then got out of bed and went downstairs in my home to see if there was any Christmas post on the mat.
When I got out of bed, there was a bright square patch on the blue carpet in my bedroom where a cardboard box had been sitting for a couple of days. It was a brighter blue because there was a very slight layer of dust on the rest of the carpet – its natural state.
“I must Hoover,” I thought.
I had to go downstairs but it took a little time because I had to go down three steps at a time. I had to stretch my leg to the third step of the orange-carpeted stairs every time and this was quite awkward.
In the red-carpeted downstairs hall, I was going to open the inner front door to see if there was any mail on the mat – I have an inner and outer front door – but, instead, I turned round. I think maybe I had heard something.
I walked towards the glass conservatory at the back of my house and something whizzed left-to-right past the half-open door. It looked like a giant light-grey rat. Then there were other smalllish grey creatures running left to right inside the conservatory. When I say smallish, I mean smaller than a cat. They were rat-sized and some were not rats: they were slightly bigger.
When I got to the inner door of the conservatory, it was half open. Some of the grey-furred creatures glanced at me as they whizzed left-to-right past by the open door. My conservatory has an inner door leading into the house and a door at the far side leading out into the garden.
I thought: “I had better close the door in case they come into the house. I don’t want them all coming into the house. There are too many of them.”
I was now close enough to see that some – there was a constant stream running left-to-right – were grey rats and some were guinea pigs, larger than rats, but with grey fur the same colour as the grey rats.
As I closed the door between the conservatory and the house I realised, at the right side of the conservatory, where there are shelves from floor to ceiling, the large grey-furred guinea pigs who had reached there were sitting up like meerkats, looking at all the other creatures – rats and guinea pigs – racing from left to right across the floor of the conservatory towards them.
Then I woke up.
I don’t have a conservatory.
I don’t have a blue carpet in my bedroom. I don’t have an orange carpet on the stairs, although I used to.
I don’t have guinea pigs. At least, I don’t think I have.
And I have never had rats.
Although I did once have a mouse which accidentally got squashed flat as a pancake.
I had to sell the bed.
I went to see two shows yesterday. My iPhone was still on silent this morning; I had forgotten to switch the ring back on.
Someone phoned me at 4.40am this morning.
Yes 4.40am. I missed the call.
But I think maybe the buzzing vibration of the iPhone woke me up during the dream.
I think I may Hoover today.