Nightmare in Lambeth!
Hello Good People
I’ve just realised there’s something I haven’t shared with you.
Last night I had a nightmare. It was the first time in a very long time that I’d dreamt of something I’d written or was in the process of writing. On this occasion, one of the main characters in ‘PROMETHEUS ASCENDING’ butted into my sleep. The tale to tell:
I was lost in some grim area of London, in dead of night, and sought a cab to get me out pronto. Much looking, no cab. And then a strange young boy was pointing out an approaching cab. Interestingly, I cannot remember anything about the boy. I note the cab and flag it down. It’s old in look, seen better days. Something isn’t quite right, but I get in. The driver is a big, tall man, wearing a black coat, and is hunched over the wheel, face turned away from me. He also has rugs and a carpet crammed into the back, and I have to squeeze in. As the cab moves off, the driver turns his head towards me, so revealing his horrific face, yet I censor myself from seeing fully the features. As he stares at me, he also reaches out his right arm and grabs the hand of my right arm. Then, half twisting, half standing, he is full on to me and makes to rip off my fingers in his massive mouth and excessively large teeth. I also recognise (although do not “see”) to my horror, that the man is the same one on the cover of my book! At that moment, I yell out instruction to myself, making clear it’s only a dream. I wake up.
So, who would a writer be!?