Last Night's Dream
For the second time in a week, I dream about London: in the first one, I was flying into the city with my mother on a plane that skidded off the runway and into a lake upon landing. We got out very easily, but nobody else did, and for some reason this wasn’t a problem for anybody but me. As we flew over the city on approach I noticed that all of the landmarks were present, but not where they were supposed to be.
In the second, I am coming home from Soho on the Circle Line (itself an oddity), but I can’t tell which way around the circuit the train is traveling. The train runs above ground in areas where it should not be doing so, and for some reason there is a vertical portion in the middle of the Circle running north-south. I wind up getting off the train somewhere in north London when all I want is to get back near Gloucester Road.
In another portion of the dream, our company president speaks to us in a public library about keeping good records of what talent did what on each book.