I had too much to dream again last night.
At one point, I was scampering around a meadow playing tig with a herd of cows. The enormous black and white beasts that produce double cream were easy to catch and I had no problem tigging them as they drunkenly lumbered about their field. Their light-footed and skinny, skimmed-milk cousins were more elusive, however. Not only are they difficult to get close to, but it is quite hard to actually see them. Like the milk they produce, they are translucent and slightly grey – you can easily see right through them to the landscape beyond – causing me to keep bumping into them frequently by accident.
Eventually, growing tired, I sat down to rest. When I raised my hand to wipe the sweat from my brow, I was shocked to discover that it was not a human hand at all but a big, black, hairy paw. I was not alarmed by this; in fact it made me smile.
I wonder if Audrey and I had swapped dream-worlds . . . I wonder if she was dreaming that Vanessa-Mae was slowly and lovingly stroking her face while Christina Applegate was tickling her belly . . .
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