|John Henry Fuseli: The Nightmare|
This is the dream I dreamt the night before last:
I was walking across a field towards a low, modern building. I was worried: worried that if I went in I might meet the Cardinal. When I arrived at the building, I opened the door and went in. The Cardinal was indeed there. I wanted to make my way across the room to the door in the opposite wall, only the Cardinal, in the nicest possible way, was blocking my way. He was a tall, thin man: seven feet tall, they said. I was surprised to see that his cape was not red but a creamy white. My eyes could not help but be drawn to its sickening colour, which filled me with dread. In the nicest possible way, I moved to one side, to walk past him. He moved in front of me again. I knew what he wanted. Under his cape he wore a many-facetted precious stone, on a chain. He wanted to draw back his cape and show me the stone. I knew that if I looked upon it I would fall under his spell. It had happened before and I was determined that it should not happen again. I made for the door. Again, he blocked my way...
And last night:
I was living in a city. It was a dark, winter evening. I set out to visit a friend who lived not far away. The friend was a publican. He lived and worked in a large, drab, brick-built public house. When I arrived, he greeted me and showed me upstairs to his private room. A little later I left to go home. I had not gone far when I was set upon by an Alsatian dog. It attempted to bite me: I felt its teeth on my hand. There was a man with the dog, standing a short distance off. I couldn't see him clearly. I turned and ran back to the pub, pursued by the dog and and its owner. When I entered the bar my friend, seeing what a state I was in, immediately stood back and let me through. As I ran up the stairs I could hear a commotion below: the dog was barking and the man was remonstrating with the publican.
Oh well, I wonder what's in store tonight? If there's a third exciting episode to this surreal soap I'll blog it.