My dream: first, my house. There's a sloping street in front of it, narrow, and there's another house at the bottom of the hill, and this is a world where zombies are taking over. There is a sort of garage door in front of this other house and a white fence sort of rises up, containing the zombies inside.
My house is completely protected, I tell the person I am with. But I turn around and look up and it isn't that protected, although it's on a hilltop; the fences have gaps, and already I see one or two zombies.
I'm not worried about them. More afraid of the zombified domestic animals. Especially mice. I spot an Irish zombie mouse.
A chart rolls out and a disembodied voice explains the differences between zombie mice of different nations, pointing out that the Irish zombie mouse is often confused with the English. Suddenly, Elgar's "Nimrod" begins to play.
I wake up for a minute, go to the bathroom, and when I return the dream seems to continue. Now I'm at an airport, in the same sort of crumbling world and I am with Damian Whiteley, and we have come to pick up someone ... an important female politician or even a goddess.
The airport is falling apart. In fact, as we stand in a corridor, the plane we are waiting for arrives and crashes through the ceiling then thrusts itself through a wall behind us - arousing no comment at all from passersby.
There are two ways to get to the pickup area: a lift and some stairs. As the lift door opens, a strip of metal with brightly colored neon orange stripe (like on a traffic warning sign they put up in the street for construction) protrudes from above the lift. I hastily get in even though Damian tells me to take the stairs and we will meet upstairs.
We are both in the lift at the strip of metal just keeps pushing out, seemingly endless. The lift begins to move. As soon as the metal ends, the lift is going to jam. It moves very fast. Suddenly with a jerk, we stop and pry the door open.
We are in a hotel lobby. "Run" screams Damian so loud that I seem to hear this outside my dream, and he pushes us forward. There is a diplomatic reception going on in the hotel, and suddenly Damian is no longer there; he is the woman we have come to pick up. She stands amid the diplomats, completely at home, but I am conscious that we still have to escape.
"It's all right," she says, "enjoy the reception." I say, "That's all very well for you, you are used to these things."
But we need to get back to the house, and I run through the lobby out to the street.
She says a few other choice things, but now that I am trying to write them down, they have slipped my mind.
Now that I look back on it, I am sure Damian actually turned into Cassandra Black, and she was a goddess.