Dreaming

There is a competition; I am one of six finalists. We are sitting in two rows of three facing away from each other. To my left are two men; to my right, a large audience. The female host instructs one of the men to sing; he does really well. The next man also does well. I don’t know why I have been chosen; my voice is nowhere near as good as theirs. I’m dreading my turn but think if I put the effort in I could be quite good. I’m going to sing a nursery rhyme and try my best. I have a hat on my head, obscuring much of my face. I realise that if I take it off, the audience would be able to see all of me – all of my personality – and then they would really like me, and would see how kind and funny I am, and would pick me as their winner despite not having the best voice. I remove my hat.

I am upstairs in a house. I need the toilet, so I go downstairs to use it. I am in the bathroom of the house at Church Lane. There is blood and two big poos in the toilet. The door knocks; it is Harriet. She says she needs to come in and sort something out. I know she means the toilet. I tell her I will deal with it for her. I flush the toilet and wipe the seat.

I’m in a grassy area with people I know. I am talking to them, then walk away and stand in the middle of two trees. As I do, I can see myself; I see how much bigger/fatter I am now, but then I check myself and realise I’m not actually that big.