dream diaries…67

June 30th: Whyteleafe.

Old time London town: shadowed cobbled streets, high-rise (but Tudor). The buildings so high that the sky is a slot of scudding cloud. Heavy wooden doors, many panelled dusty windows. I am being chased by unseen forces; their boot falls echo off the walls. I push open a door and begin to ascend stone steps. A woman is descending. She runs down the steps, her cape billows behind her. I stand to one side to let her pass and as she does she whispers, “Follow me.” I can smell her perfume; musk. I follow.

She ducks into a doorway, the door slams behind her. When I push the door open I see that it leads into a courtyard. The woman, some distance ahead, begins to fade as she runs. She runs, she fades. She fades to nothing: transparent for a moment and then nothing. I realise that I’ve seen a ghost. A ghost! {i wake immediately and i’m dying to tell someone! also, the musk seems still to fill my throat.}

July 3rd 2019.

Stood atop a tall building. The breeze, blown across the town, blurs my vision but I can see the sea from here.

July 5th 2019.

Surprised to find a room in my flat that I never knew existed. The door is beyond the bath. Inside there is a small family living. They are huddled around a TV set and all look up as I come in. They are as startled as I am. The old man turns the volume down on the television and asks, “Can I help you?”