Sunday, 3 January 2016

Intimations of Something.

Shortly after I woke up this morning I dozed again briefly. As soon as I did, I found myself standing in front of a genteel Victorian or Edwardian town house which had a flight of three or four steps leading up to the front door. I felt the immediate onset of a mixture of excitement and fear, both of which were close to overwhelming. I didn’t know why I felt that way and woke up after what seemed like only a few seconds.

I remembered that the street was empty apart from me, and the house was pristine – white or pale grey stucco walls and a shiny black door that looked newly painted. The door knocker was polished brass.

Such a clear dream, clearly remembered. And so short. I wonder whether the black door offers a clue to its genesis.

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