I Dreamt I was an Architect



It’s Monday morning and we don’t have enough money for the taxi into town so we walk it instead. She needs to pee and the more she complains, the more I entertain the idea of her wetting herself, but thankfully for her, she makes it to the toilets of the indoor shopping arcade just in time. Had a dream last night I was in my grandparents’ old house. In the dream, my grandad was still alive, and he was waiting for me to talk to him but try as I might I couldn’t seem to find him no matter how many times I searched each room. The house was the same as it had been back when I was a kid. The same wallpaper. The same ornaments. That familiar smell of mashed potato and tea mixed with dust and a month of Sundays. It was just how I remembered it to be, and for a while, it eased my fears and comforted my weary bones to be back in a time when things were so much easier. But those years are far behind me, and all that I now know is drenched in fear and regret. While I’m lost in thought, she goes and gets her nails done leaving me to walk around the shops. When she comes back, we kiss and I squeeze her right breast. She giggles and snorts and for a second she lets me continue before slapping away my hand. Then from shop to shop we roam admiring all the things we’re too poor to buy while passing beggars and thieves and chavs and all kinds of undesirables that sniff our scents while eyeing us up with contempt and disdain. Making our way outside, we walk hand in hand towards the park, and I remember another dream I had, one where I had invented the Ferris wheel. I ask her what it could mean, but she’s too eager to feed the ducks and swans to reply. Taking out the loaf of bread from her bag she brought from home, she hands me several slices and together we hunt for our feathered friends up and down the length of the lake, and yet I can’t stop thinking about that Ferris wheel. The way its lights shone in the blackened night. The way it rose into the sky with the beaming smiles of its passengers making me so proud of my invention.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com

4 replies »

  1. “That familiar smell of mashed potato and tea mixed with dust and a month of Sundays.” I’ve found that, even though I love all your work, there’s always one line, one sentence (or two or three) that makes me smile out loud. This is it today. ❤

    • I’m so glad you enjoyed that one in particular. Thinking about that part of my childhood evokes so much, but it’s never the big events that move me, it’s always the quiet moments. Those slow and sleepy slices of life that so often go overlooked ❤

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