I had the dream of zombies last night (if
that’s what they actually are).
I’m stood in The City on a beautiful summer’s
day (so unlike the ones it’s been our pleasure to enjoy this May) and from the
distance comes the pounding of rushing feet. Even though I’ve had this dream so
many times now, even though a large part of me knows what’s coming, I still
have all kinds of wild theories rushing through my mind as to what that noise
could be. Is it some kind of runaway train? Is it a herd of buffalo? (A common
sight in The City of London). Even though I on many levels know what’s coming,
I still flinch when this mass of deranged humanity charges around the corner
towards me. They come as a wave, an unstoppable force. There are all these
people in suits and summer dresses and shorts and T-shirts; ostensibly normal
human beings, now with the gleam of death in their eyes. It’s only when they
are upon me that I really get afraid, that I crouch down and cry out when their fingers
tear into my flesh.
Julie had a dream of being chased screaming outside
her flat last night.
Dexter Phillips’ dream saw him on top of a hill
looking at all this carnage humanity is ripping into itself.
The two of
them are going to meet each other this Sunday.
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