I met the priestess for the first time last night. In a dream, of course. I went to her homeland to find her, and we recognised one another instantly. The first thing she did was kiss me on the lips to indicate the nature of her feelings, and that surprised me. She said she’d come back to England with me, and so she did.
How long we hung around together I don’t know, since time has no meaning in dreams. I only remember that we went to different places and met different people, but I was constantly aware of a wall of restraint between us. She wasn’t prepared to give and it wasn’t my place to persuade. Eventually she told me she was going home, since she couldn’t believe in fantasy. I made no protest when she left; I just walked away knowing that she was gone for the rest of my life.
I walked home through dingy suburban streets. The place I was living in was a house I used to occupy. It had been smart back then, and all mine. Now it was dishevelled; even the door to the street wouldn’t stay closed because the catch was broken. And every room was occupied by a different group of people. It seemed the house had become a squat.
I stood looking at it from the outside, and then saw a young woman of mixed race approaching along the pavement. She walked through the front door and proceeded along the hall. Now that she had her back to me, I saw that she was naked and had blemishes on her skin which I found unattractive. I followed her anyway because I sensed something significant about her. She went into one of the rooms, and when I caught up with her she was fully clothed again. I told her she was the one I must rely on now. She replied earnestly, saying that I could; and then the dream ended.
Most of this is easy to interpret, but who the hell was the mixed race woman?
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