Graham and Georgina's trip to Mars
For some reason, Graham and Georgina and myself had booked ourselves into a trip to Mars from Orpington by coach. Yes, all the way by coach. I don't know how that would have worked as we never really got that far.
The coach took us down some country lanes in the dark. We passed a cliff edge by the sea with a huge rubbish bag fixed to it. It was as tall as the cliff itself and very full of rubbish. The sea was rising around it.
The driver announced that we were about to take off and I made sure that Georgina was sitting down next to some boy who had nothing to do with us other than he was sitting at our table. Yes, I know, impressive coach. Tables and a trip to Mars.
Nothing happened and I checked again we were back in the same country lanes. The water was almost up to the top of the giant rubbish bag.
We were dropped off in Orpington High Street to wait for another coach. Graham's ex-wife, Jo, was there but she was blanking me. She deliberately looked away when she carried some folded cardboard boxes past me. I don't know why she was doing that.
Later I called her evil, an insult that a woman threw at David when we were at the fireworks the other week in boring old reality. In the dream, the insult seemed to shock Jo.
Graham turned up and I showed him a life-sized model of a tyre I'd made out of my own hair and beard clippings. He wasn't impressed and I got sick of carrying it so I went to throw it in the giant rubbish bin. The seaside cliff was somehow conveniently within walking distance of land-locked Orpington. By that time the bag was completely submerged so I had to throw my hair-tyre into the sea above the bag in the hope it would go in.
When I got back to the high-street, the replacement coach still hadn't arrived and Jo smiled at me and apologised for ignoring me earlier.
The coach took us down some country lanes in the dark. We passed a cliff edge by the sea with a huge rubbish bag fixed to it. It was as tall as the cliff itself and very full of rubbish. The sea was rising around it.
The driver announced that we were about to take off and I made sure that Georgina was sitting down next to some boy who had nothing to do with us other than he was sitting at our table. Yes, I know, impressive coach. Tables and a trip to Mars.
Nothing happened and I checked again we were back in the same country lanes. The water was almost up to the top of the giant rubbish bag.
We were dropped off in Orpington High Street to wait for another coach. Graham's ex-wife, Jo, was there but she was blanking me. She deliberately looked away when she carried some folded cardboard boxes past me. I don't know why she was doing that.
Later I called her evil, an insult that a woman threw at David when we were at the fireworks the other week in boring old reality. In the dream, the insult seemed to shock Jo.
Graham turned up and I showed him a life-sized model of a tyre I'd made out of my own hair and beard clippings. He wasn't impressed and I got sick of carrying it so I went to throw it in the giant rubbish bin. The seaside cliff was somehow conveniently within walking distance of land-locked Orpington. By that time the bag was completely submerged so I had to throw my hair-tyre into the sea above the bag in the hope it would go in.
When I got back to the high-street, the replacement coach still hadn't arrived and Jo smiled at me and apologised for ignoring me earlier.
posted by Robert Williams at 4:02 AM
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