Assor­ted dreams

If I remem­ber my dreams I try to write them down in a note­book, to use for later inspir­a­tion. The one I’ve been using suddenly fell apart yester­day. I tried to stick the pages back in, but the spine was completely disin­teg­rated. I think I’ll just start a new one and copy the old entries over. Here’s some vari­ous bits from it.

Robert Smith’s Cabbages

A couple of years ago I went down to Aldwick, near Bognor Regis for the summer to house-sit a relative’s house. I ended up being stran­ded there due to a lengthy train strike. Robert Smith of the Cure is prob­ably the only famous local resid­ent. The owner of one of the local shops told me where he lived, and I went along to see it once out of curi­os­ity. The house was dull and expens­ive look­ing, but the beach it stands next to was much more Robert Smith like, with windswept shingle like Dunge­ness and rare sea cabbages. I never bothered to look at Robert Smith’s house again, but I made many trips to the beach because I liked it so much. I was usually the only person there.

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