Dream Diary

After a rather lovely evening with a chum avec wine and pizza, I came home, crashed out and dreamed. Admittedly the events of the last two nights have worn me out and of course, the wine played its part, but the riot in my head was severe. Chum and I had popped in to see the exhibition of Press Photos in the Southbank Centre, and left quickly because it was so depressing - but not before I had seen a picture of a macaque monkey with a dolls head on top of its own. The image must have impressed upon my psyche because in my dream, my brother had trays and trays of babies' heads laid out. Someone was very upset and kept telling me about the terrible things that had happened to these babies. Then I saw these little doll like figures that kept bumping into things; they were not sentient, and I knew them from elsewhere in dream world - they were a kind of mobile fungus that looked like little people, only with no hands. They were dangerous if they reached you, but they were so slow and I was so happy about something else, I couldn't be bothered to recall how to kill them - I had just forgotten. Next thing I knew, they were everywhere, dressed in little costumes, while I was wracking my brain trying to remember. At one point, The Doctor may have got involved. I sincerely hope so.

Olivia's obituary

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/10468198/Olivia-Robertson-Obituary.html