Morning and a dream

[smokingboot]

I should write this down before it fades, like this beautiful morning all frost and yellow light with birds wheeling round the houses to chase insects or enjoy the wind. A short Autumn nearly done, early Winter on the doorstep. Brr! How can anything that looks so good feel so bad?

But quickly, to record the dream before it leaves.

Nasty old foe was there, comparatively well dressed, as was I. Where were we? Something like a university quadrant in an old city like Edinburgh or London, familiar to me, a merging of both and more places. He and I were going somewhere and he touched my shoulder gingerly. Then, as we walked, he quickly grew more confident, and moved his arm more securely, sometimes around my waist, sometimes around my shoulder. It wasn't romantic, more tender and affectionate and I was delighted.

He had much to show me including a friend of his, a standard gradlad, pale with fawn coloured hair and a long thin face. When the young man put his arm out to shake hands, I noticed he had no musculature really, very much the stereotype of the boy who stays home reading. His name was Golden.I could not help comparing him with a chum, John Golden, who died many years ago of what I think was a heart attack. This gentle diffident chap couldn't be less like John, who was a big ruddy round man and perhaps the most ferocious and bitingly articulate politico I ever met, but the name made me think.

IA took me to his house, which was comfortably untidy with a kitten playing in a shoe. Then he took me to meet more people I didn't know, including a bartender behind this tiny almost sealed off cocktail unit, more like a pod than a bar. The bartender made us both a shot and chaser which he called 'Elders Green.' I assumed its name came from elderflowers. When I looked at the two drinks, I noticed that both had a vague chartreuse colour to them, but the shot was darker than the chaser. Someone told me that the shot was a 'hard' drink. Literal as ever, I wondered if it meant it was physically hard like ice. I was still staring at it as IA drank his, because suddenly I wasn't sure. Were we dead? Where were we again? Maybe this was down to watching Hades being depicted in Kaos, or my own customs from whence the warnings come: If you don't know what world you're in, careful what you eat and drink, careful what you give and take. Underworld food = don't know, fairy food = don't care, but everything is interchangeable and there are many more possibilities than these.

Fading, all fading in the morning. I enjoyed it, and I enjoy this beauty too. Time to put the coffee on.