On 6th March 2020 I dreamed…
I was at a party - a desultory party in small rooms connected by short flights of stairs. The place was drab and there was piped music. I wandered up some stairs to a room where there were five people and myself and some drinks in glasses.
I wanted to dance and came hopefully up to three of the men - one at a time. They none of them wanted to dance. Reluctantly the third guy - a tall old hippy in a long coat with a shock of grey hair and a big belly - stood while I took his right hand across from my right hand and started to jive a little. He smirked nastily and butted his belly up against mine. I left him.
I looked for a drink and found a pail of water with some pint glasses steeping in it. I swished around to take out a glass to drink but noticed there were flecks of spittle on the surface of the water. A man instantly came along and took the glass and then the whole bucket away warning that this was not for drinking.
Somehow I was in a train station. I was late for catching a train to Russia at 2 o’clock. There were two levels in the station - downstairs had no trains and was full of people. I ran upstairs where the trains left from deserted bus stances on a deserted plane behind a wall. I hitched myself up onto the wall and the faces of two beautiful, dark-skinned women with Romany faces and head scarves came riding on ponies right up to my face over the wall. They were mother and daughter. They did not smile nor respond. I understood that they were going to Russia by pony and had not caught the train. They turned their animals off to my left and rode away.
In desperation I looked behind them for the 2 o’clock train to Russia but there was only an empty, old-fashioned train standing there alone. I rushed down to the lower level again and at once realised my stupidity in noticing there were no trains down there. I also knew that by now my train would have left as it was ten past two.
I rushed up concrete steps once again, pushing along with people on my left and the wall on my right. The surroundings were all dingey and colourless. I knew for certain when I once again looked out over the wall for my train, that it had gone. I mentally blamed myself for allowing people to hold me back.
I realise now, two years later, awake and not dreaming, that really, only the final line of this saga needs to be remembered.