Funeral Dream

Found myself naked in a city, hiding and dashing via corners when I thought no-one could see me. Finally I straightened up, walked into a shop, and told them I was looking for a coat. No-one batted an eyelid. Hanging in the window I saw a green long coat covered with embroidered daisies and asked the assistant to get it down for me to try. Instead they presented me with this strange one piece that you just put on over your head like a jumper, but somehow when on looked like an entire matching ensemble. It came with a boater, and was either late Victorian or early Edwardian. The colours did not suit me, they were white and pale with small floral prints in places, but the fit was excellent. it had a very short sweep train at the back. I asked them how much the outfit was and they said £71. Quite how I paid for it remains a mystery, but next thing I knew I was out in the street, and there was a funeral procession. Everyone in it was walking. There was a man at the front with his two sons next to him, all in black. He wiped the younger one's tears and told him to stop crying.

For some reason I had this idea that they were royal, and the man at the front should be Charles with Wills and Harry at the funeral of Diana, but the clothes were all wrong, in fact everything about this theory felt off. If I had to place it by the date of general attire, I could only vaguely guess at either Queen Victoria's death in 1901, making the man at the front her son Bertie and his two princes, Albert Victor and George V to be, or Edward VII's death in 1910, with his son in front of the procession together with his princes, Edward VIII and George VI. It was very odd. Then the procession turned and filed into what seemed too small a place for everyone as well as having some kind of shop front, the faces of mourners pressed against the windows from the inside looking out. It looked cramped.

And that's this full moon's last bone-crazed gift to me. By gum, I wake more tired than I go to sleep.