Dream: 30th September, 2017

Dream: 30th September, 2017


[Intense, vivid throughout]

I feel deep affinity with a big brown dog whose coat is like mini balls of wool. "His coat is like balls of wool," I say. We are at my childhood home, outside near the front gate. The dog (ours?) is curious and sensitive and assumes nothing. He nuzzles very close to my face as though trying to communicate. Our consciousnesses somehow commune through proximity, beyond language rather than in spite of its lack. 

I'm on a train with my whole family - including Dad (who died in 2011) - and an unknown other older man who has a deeply lined face and whom I find tedious. Dad is present but silent and invisible. Matt is quiet and impatient.

I want to seem competent about making the journey, knowing the stations, etc. Matt decides we will change at Haggerston. Mum nearly gets left on the train. The dogs get off at the last minute, running past Mum and surprising her. I tell her she needs something to eat. She protests. I feel I am being unfair and insufficiently caring but I just want to appear competent.

Mum and I mistake a refreshments wagon for a ticket booth. We find the ticket machines, one is broken. Neither of us can work out how to use the other one.

We go inside and use a (wo)manned ticket machine, having failed to work out the machines. The single fare is £1.50, the woman says, but I can't find the slot for the card and she is being minimally helpful. I feel incompetent and worry that Dad is getting angry, although he is silent and invisible. I practically force the woman to help me find the slot, telling her I am partially sighted and that her machine must be a nightmare for elderly people. At which point I hear Sophie's voice behind me, and turn round to tell her she has come along only to take the piss. She smiles. I'm glad to see her, despite feeling stressed and humiliated. Matt tells Mum she looks unwell; I agree, adding the word 'ghostly' (as in, pale) and again feel I am being unfair.