(Not sure if CdM had a dream about me waking up in a small stone cell with no windows or not. I presume he had as he is submitting his lines here though he may just have dreamt that he was awake and then submitted in his sleep??)
... I was in the small stone cell again, accompanied by CdM and Marc, which is odd as I have no idea what either of them looks like. Oddly they were both asleep, and CdM was snoring. I started clapping my hands to try and wake them up, but to no avail. I shouted at the top of my voice - no avail. I prodded the two sleepers, kick them, sang the national anthem right in their ears... but all to a quite singular lack of avail. So I gave up, went over to CdM's side of the cell because he's right, found myself a bit of space to lie down and dozed off. I dreamt...
... I saw a foreign land And rode a foreign steed Her lilac mane; my crimson hand The colors interbleed A jagged face of endless chalk To match our hair unkempt As I in sleepless saddle rock And by and by I dreamt...
... that I was sitting on a stage ... in a circle with others sat in the gloom, who's shape I can barely make out ... an audience far off is hushed ...it's the World Championship... I lean forward and say hushed tones "Belsize Park and placing a blue token on Golders Green to initiate Parks and Greens cascade as the mmmmmmmm goes up from the audience I rest back on deckchair, close my eyes, smile and dream that...
...with torch in hand i am venturing down into the catacombs to consult with my muse whom has become tardy in his contractual correspondence from the crypt there is no light burning in his chamber and not even a scarab is moving about in fact the dust has lain so long undisturbed atop his work station it affords no evidence of activity the candle on the desk has expired beyond its usefulness and the inkwell whar reclines a writers quill has dried completely what parchment thar was is become so brittle it crumbles like ashe as i lift it to read the indelible scribblings disintegrate before my eyes and the only disturbance of the earthen floor in manner of tracks is my own entering and no others leaving what perplexes me to no limits for how did he abandon the chamber without making an impression in the loose textured soil but if he did not leave and is still here then whar i ask myself as i scritch at the crawling rash newly born on my naked ankles what is spreading like a plague of fleas upward beneath my nightrobe which as fact presents itself it is fleas centuries in hybernation emerging from the sand at my feet and more voracious than locusts ascending upon me in a black death and i am become consumed in a suffocating cloud of insanity from whar i cannot escape till with a climactic bloodcurdling scream i am sucked dry to the marrow and come unglued to expend as a thin layer of ashe that drifts throughout the chamber till with my last sentient thought as atom parts way with atom settling atom among unfamiliar atom i thinik how deserved is my attrition that i should at last be one with my muse - amid the ensuing limbo i dream...