Are you lonesome tonight?

What a strange night. I woke up at half twelve feeling like I’d been asleep for aaaaages, then half-woke every 40 minutes or so for the rest of the night, so that I was treated to a fractured series of REM dreams.

They often seemed to feature some banal waking anxiety, such as my bike brakes failing or leaving my mobile phone at work (which I’d done IRL), and then at about 3am they went lucid.

I woke up in my own, day-lit flat to find Jonty making breakfast (he’s actually away on business at the moment.)

—Are you really here?
—Yup, of course.
—Hmm…
I look down to see a tiny dead bat, smeared crimson on the white floorboards. Looking right I can see another body, a mouse I think. Beyond it there are more, too small to distinguish.
—Are you sure you’re definitely here?
—Yeah, why?
—Well, if I’m dreaming, my apartment* probably isn’t really full of dead animals, but if I’m not dreaming, and we’re both here, and it’s light, it must be Saturday morning.
—It’s a win-win situation.
—Hmm…
Still trying to puzzle it out, I duck as a small black and white hummingbird flies at my head.

Dead animals aside, the lucid dream was kinda charming. By 6am things had really deteriorated.

In my final dream I was chased into an isolated public toilet by an angry looking girl. She crawled under the door into the cubicle where I was hiding, and then morphed into a man from two dreams earlier.

The man then proceeded to feed me my own raw liver while alternatively threatening to rape me and promising me that my liver would grow back.

Very Greek indeed, and the therapists would have a field day.

*The American vernacular should’ve been a dead giveaway.

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