27/10/22 Somewhere south of London in a sort of 1980s that never happened, I am sitting on the top deck of the 466 bus with mum. The rest of the bus is empty. We gaze out of the bus window, through the tree tops and into the first floor windows of the semi-detached: orange leaves … Continue reading dream diaries…114
03.08.22 Nick B phones. He is in Whitby. He is asking for my address. I have to scrabble around in many notebooks trying to find it - I thought I lived in Whitley Bay, but I had better check. He says not to worry, there's a bus back to South Croydon leaving in ten minutes. … Continue reading dream diaries…113
21.06.22 Hull is such a miserable place. The people are inbreds and will accost, accuse and assault you as you leave the dreary grey and red plastic coach station. All semblance of civility is absent here. I am unfortunate enough to find myself thrust among this ugly mob one grizzled afternoon in autumn (it is … Continue reading dream diaries…112
