Sunday, 18 August 2013


I dreamt about Bob. It was a confused, hurried dream. Normally when I dream about Bob, the dreams are clear and vivid, almost like real life. This one was like an old black and white TV that couldn't stay tuned. Bob would waver in and out, his dream broken up by other dreams, normal dreams.

During one clear patch, Bob told me I'd failed another challenge. Two out of five lost. Before he disappeared, he said the balance had shifted further. I tried to ask him what the challenge was, how I'd failed. He was gone, and I was on a wide, yellow beach facing a wave that towered over me.

Bob flashed back into my dream later. I couldn't tell if a second had passed or three hours. He said I mustn't fail the next challenge, or everything was lost. I tried to ask him what it was. I couldn't; he was gone, and I was standing on a narrow rope bridge above a dark, fathomless crevasse.

No one's speaking. We're just trudging along, following the furrow, with no meaning or purpose.

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