Yesterday, at 2pm, I 'woke up' inside my own dream wearing exactly what I was wearing in real life and at the same time of day. My eyes were glued shut. I heard strangers’ keys in the front door. All I could do was sit with my back to the wall (when I managed to find the wall) and cry.
When I really woke up, I had no idea what was going on.
According to the property owner, the people who broke in and fled with my Scrabble were sending him a message. The prime suspects are the squatters he evicted from the adjacent property, which he'll renovate and rent for 3K a flat.
I wonder if thieves know they climb into your dreams. Maybe I should be I grateful I have the luxury of Sunday afternoon naps and bad dreams that have an end.
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