...to find I was a lemon scented car freshener hanging from the rear view mirror of a Mk II Austin Allegro (one of those with the "square" steering wheel circa 1979). Sadly, the car was being scrapped and my lemon-scentedness had declined to barely nothing so I'd been left in the car. A sudden noise made me realise not just that the car was about to be crushed, but also that this was an alarmingly sentient state of affairs for an inanimate object. The shock and fear made me pass out, and I dreamt...
...that my foot was set upon the Way with assurance, and as I walked in that strait way, I met another man whose body was strangely bent. "Who art thou?", I asked. And he replied, "I am Half-Twist, and I am bound for Lancaster Gate. Shall we walk together?" But I replied to him, "Is it not writ in that Little Book that informeth us of the Destination and the Way thereto, that those who half-twist to that place shall meet with ruin and destruction? Change thy way, I beseech thee, and walk a better." But he scorned me, and cast me into Knip, and I could not escape. Then I might have despaired, but I remembered that saying that says, when the diagonals are closed, inaction is the strongest action. So I sat down, and farkled awhile, and at length fell asleep and dreamed...
...that I'd woken up. Or had I in fact woken up? I wasn't sure, so I attempted to get out of bed, only to realise that despite being in my bed I was not in fact in my bedroom, but on top of a mountain. Satisfied I was still dreaming, I snuggled back under the covers and dreamt...
. . . my best friend fell in love with a giant white octopus that lived in the pond near her house. She would ride on one of it's arms every day and she would bounce up and down and get really wet and not care.
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