I used to write down my dreams regularly but over the years they slipped away, leaving just this one fromÂ the 9th ofÂ June 1996, 4 a.m.:
Tonight, i witnessed the severest storm of the year. Despite closed windows, the rain stole through and leaked down the wall so that i was forced to move my bed. My blanket had lost the battle against the cold, so i reinforced it with a pink sheet, a white tablecloth and a yellowed lab coat. I slipped into sleep with Radio 5 playing; the last song i recall being the Smashing Pumpkins’ â€˜1979â€™. I later awoke from this dream:
An evil man sits upon the throne. I steal what gives him power. Itâ€™s something you sense rather than see. In rage, he storms after me and enough of the power lingers within him so that he becomes a giant. But i learn to fly and thus escape.
I fly confused, unable to unlock the powerâ€™s remaining secrets. But itâ€™s a relief to be in the open as my head suddenly clears and i realize that the confusion had almost overpowered me into death.
I see two couples in a park. I alight and theyâ€™re not surprised by my transport. I greet them, recognizing one girl and kissing her deeply; warm, soft, moist and consequently comforting. I lie to her boyfriend that the kiss meant nothing but he is unperturbed. They inform me that half go to a gig at the Berea Inn (which lies on the border of the park), and the others seek a sick friend at St Augustineâ€™s hospital (which is within the park). I recognize the name of the patient as an old friend of mine that i used to play pool with so i decide to go with.
We enter an enormous room and i soon lose the others. Itâ€™s a waiting room but the ceiling is disproportionate and domed by glass; huge and Turkish like the throne room where iâ€™d stolen the power. Alistair (a buddy from St Tropez), is high above on a stone platform. Heâ€™s playing drums with knives. Somebody is to his right. His presence is indefinable but important. His speech is with white feelings and bright light instead of words. I sense the evil. The crowd appears hypnotized and reverent.
Not knowing where to go, i lie on a bed in a corner. The room grows further. Now there are thousands of people. I fall asleep.
Loren wakes me. Surprise! She hugs me hello. Thereâ€™s a couple lying on the bed next to us. Theyâ€™re in missionary position. Suddenly everyone in the room is coupled atop beds, knives appearing in the hands of those below. Killing knives. I realize that the refusal of my possessed hand determines the fate of everyone.
I cast it away but it returns. I see a possible future of Loren’s slit neck rushing blood onto me. That gives me the power to stop what is happening. Strangely, iâ€™m able to put the knife down gently.
The partner of the coloured woman next to me leaves. I beckon her and we have sex on the floor whilst someone does the same with Loren. We switch partners but now itâ€™s more gentle than wild.
Loren starts to tell me something, something important, but her words are lost as i awake-
The storm has returned me to consciousness. My eyes are closed and i know that iâ€™m facing away from the window yet lightning still whitens my sight.