Dreams and Nightmares

A friend of mine phoned yesterday, because she had had a dream of me. It was a post cancer party; I was well and the cancer was gone, and everyone was celebrating. They had got me presents... and there were goodie bags full of lovely little presents for everyone.

There now, I will keep hold of that.

My own dreams are not so pleasant. By and large they're inchoate, none of them with that strange clarity that makes me take notice. They are anxiety dreams and they feel like it; murky, scrappy, tainted by the day's actions and sights. One that recurs is the dream of some script I once knew by heart, learned so long ago I've actually forgotten the whole thing. But I only remember that detail just as it's all about to happen!