The last episode, I think. I dreamt it the night before last. I remember nothing from last night. The dreams have got less and less lurid: were it not for the previous dreams (see the previous two posts) I don't think I would have taken much notice of this one. What began with a bang has faded to a whimper. (In case anyone is worried for me, I should point out that the idea of going to a hospital is purely a dream-creation) :
I was sat on the top deck of an old London bus with a friend. I said I'd get off as I thought we were close to the hospital. I ran down the stairs and jumped off the rear platform as the bus slowed down.
When I got to the hospital I found it was largely deserted. I was going there to see a psychiatrist but it was the wrong day for the clinic I needed to attend. I walked round the corridors lined with empty chairs thinking I should try to get it together and come on the right day, with all the paperwork the doctor had given me.
I left the hospital and walked home. At home, the landing window had become a kiosk. I was stood there talking to a man who said he could only sort out my benefits if I had the right paperwork.
I found myself looking out of a window. It began to snow, then hail. There was thunder and lightening. The hail turned to heavy rain.
4 years ago