Dreaming of Home

For the last three nights I’ve been dreaming of home.

In the first one, I was surprised to be in Wellington, having managed to get all of my things home in four suitcases. Bapuji was helping me unpack my books and I suddenly wondered ‘how the hell did I get all of this past check in?’ then I wondered ‘hang on, yesterday I was in London, did I remember to give Maya her present? Oh shit, what about that shirt of Renu’s? I haven’t given that back yet, it must be sitting on the shelf still’. For some reason I thought that all of my flatmates had moved out, so I couldn’t ask anyone to check where the shirt is.

And it was then that my reasoning kicked in …

I thought to myself ‘I wouldn’t forget to return Renu’s shirt, this isn’t right’.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was the shirt issue that alerted me to being in a dream NOT the fact that Bapuji hasn’t been alive for almost 15 years …

Anyway, the last couple of nights haven’t remained in my memory long enough to recount the tale but I have woken up both mornings very surprised to find myself in London.

Maybe I should lay off the cheese for a bit.


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