I had one the other night. It was quite early on, though perhaps being an early to bed kind of being, for me it wasn’t. I had two of practically the same dream one after the other, or so it seemed to me. Something or someone was at the front door. (Thinking back to it now, and I can see the images of it very clearly, it must have been our front door here.) They were going to come in. I didn’t see them but I knew I was terrified of either them or what they represented and I was rushing, pawing, scrabbling up the stairs to escape them. And I was screaming or trying to. The stairs felt enclosed like the set of steps in our farm in Lancashire, or indeed the ones we have here, a narrow tunnel of a space. My screams came out as animal noises, begun in the throat as moans but unable to be fully articulated. I tried and tried again. I think it was the huge effort that this took that eventually woke me. It was only 9.15pm.
