Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Love hangs herself with the bedsheets in her cell
I dreamt at the weekend that I was staying at The Ritz in town with an old boyfriend (using the term advisedly). I used to really like him, then I really hated him, then he died and death being a great healer and all, now I quite like him.
Anyhow, in my dream we checked into a grand room on the top floor of the hotel. The place was divine with fine upholstered french furniture, plush carpets and wonderful drapes. A magnificent bed was made up with grey satin sheets and a tapestry throw.
Two things made me nervous however, firstly the thought that I was about to get into bed with this man was quite rightly disturbing me and secondly the room had no roof at all. All I could see above me was the night sky, deep black and littered with stars. I called down to the conceirge:
'This room has no roof'
'That's correct Madam'
'But if it rains there will be a cover for the roof?'
'So if it rains we can change rooms right?'
'There are no other rooms available'
'So if it rains ....'
'You get wet'