a dress of green

Of course I can't remember the dream
I woke up worried about bills and bank things and envelopes with red writing on them. I couldn't possibly remember anything as flimsy and insubstantial as a dream. There was so much to do today, so little time. Dreams don't get much of a look in.

I couldn't remember anything about the dream but something in it was still nagging me, I couldn't think of the dream without becoming a little disturbed and uneasy, even though I couldn't really remember anything at all about the plot of the dream itself or any characters in it.

It took me quite a while to wake up enough to gather some resolve and finally get up. Of course, lessons at the school were suspended today as it was exam week so I didn't have to get up at six in the morning. I looked at the watch but it returned an opaque face in which I couldn't make out the hands. I reached for the iPod touch and clicked. 8:17 am. It's quite early really, I don't know that I want to get up just yet. I'll be busy enough later on, there's a whole pile of things that need doing. I think I can afford ten minutes' sleep more, though.

I woke up startled, with my heart in my mouth as they say back home. I gulped a large lungful of air and tried to think what that was about. Slowly my breathing and my pulse rate started to go back to normal. I could only think of the many errands, the uncomfortable visit to the bank that awaited me, the many phone calls to make, the near vicinity of total financial disaster. What was it? Something I'd dreamt, probably. Something ....

That was it. Just thinking about it was the scariest thing, it would send my skin up in goose-bumps. It was the woman in the dream, tall and slim and inviting. And deadly. Who was she?

I just couldn't bear to think about the dream. At the same time, though, it kept tugging at me, calling for my attention whenever my attention was wandering somewhere else. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair is finally going grey. It had to happen one day. Well, that day is here. Boo. I breathed in deeply, running the razor across my chin, thinking I'd forgotten to change the blade. Again. Scrape, scrape. I really have to make that phone call today. then, for a fraction of a second, I saw her in the mirror. It was like a blow across my face, I was physically hurting when I opened my eyes again a few seconds later and dared look in the mirror. It was only me there, looking older, looking startled and, curiously, looking scared.

There was such a long queue at the bank. It'd take the whole morning. Then the phone rang I took it out of my pocket but the call was missed, no number registered. 'New text message'. I open it. 'It was lovely making love to you last night. Do not forget me or you'll regret it'. What is this? No sender's number. 'Sir, the queue', said the man behind me. The queue had kept moving forward while I stood there, dumbstruck,

The interview with the bank people was pretty much a disaster. I was in trouble and they appreciated my custom of twenty years but could do nothing to help me, so very sorry sir. Come again when you have money. I woke back home, thinking of what course of action was left. Not a lot. This really would be the end, the next step a cardboard box under Waterloo Bridge. I coughed again, that heavy deep cough that had woken me up several times in the night but not during that.. no, don't think about that, put that thought away.

What was that that triggered the panic again? A display in the local Turkish café, just some prepared dished sitting on an ornamental bed of lettuce.. Why lettuce? It sent me in a wild terror. I'll have to do something about this and go to a shrink or something. It is not normal at all to freak out because of a vegetable...

When I came back home thre was a soft knock on the door. I ran downstairs, opened the door. For a fraction of a second.. but no, it was her, all was well. She looked at me in a puzzled way "Are you alright?", "yes, Im ok"

But I wasn't entirely ok..