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Write about a recurring dream you have.
I’ve only ever had one recurring dream, and that not for a long time. It has stayed with me because it’s almost a nightmare. I first had it as a child.
I am sitting under a bush under a window covered in something I shall call ‘fairies’ because I don’t want to say what they are; they creepy-crawl me out.
So, I’m covered in fairies. Swarming fairies. Then I wake up.
I never said it was an interesting dream.
My favourite mornings are Christmas mornings:
The hard work is over, for the most part; we are all together; we have fun.
It’s not about the presents, though everyone gets some. It’s about the thought that goes into them.
The joy of receiving them.
Those happy, smiling faces.
Then the routine exhaustion-nap.
Thanks to Sidey for this one.
A travel agent looked up from his desk to see an old lady and an old gentleman peering in the shop window at the posters showing glamorous destinations around the world.
The agent had had a good week and the dejected couple looking in the window gave him a rare feeling of generosity. He called them into his shop: ‘I know that on your pension you could never hope to have a holiday, so I’m sending you off to a fabulous resort at my expense, and I won’t take no for an answer.’
He took them inside and asked his secretary to write two flight tickets and book a room in a five star hotel. They, as can be expected, gladly accepted, and were off.
About a month later the little old lady came into his shop. ‘And how did you like your holiday?’ he asked eagerly.
‘The flight was exciting and the room was lovely,’ she said. ‘I’ve come to thank you – but, one thing puzzled me. Who was that old bugger I had to share the room with?’