04/01/20 Back at Pine Walk preparing for a tea party. There are plenty of chairs and seats, but many are merely wooden frames. A surgeon operates on B. Liddle in the kitchen. He is crouched over BL, who is sat like a rag doll on the floor. The doctor cuts away at the back of … Continue reading dream diaries… 77
December 21st 2019. We met in the soft cotton tunnels, both wriggling upward toward the light, and when we reached the surface, we found that the landscape was a duvet; a duvet of molehills for us to climb into and out of. A duvet meadow of blue, pale, but warmed by rods of sunlight. A … Continue reading dream diaries…76
December 12th 2019. I climb Old Lyme Road, past the dark houses, the long garden lawns. The black of the hedges leaning out into the tarmac. The village behind me, impossibly small, improbably distant. And then, the road ends abruptly, just as I remember it. It is still marked by the iron gate, brown and … Continue reading dream diaries…75
