Tuesday, Jun. 08, 2004 - 15:26

I find myself in a large house… a modern day mansion; very clean and kind of Spartan in it’s décor… it looks like it was decorated by the 'Yuppy from Hell’ who bought out Ikea’s total available stock.

Simon is in the house with me. I can’t see him, but I can sense his presence. I think I can even hear him calling my name.

’I have to get out of here!’ I realise, gripped with panic, and so commence moving from room to room, trying to find a way out.

I find myself in the kitchen. It is filled with modern GE appliances, styled to look big and chunky like electrical appliances made in the 1950’s. It’s all very nice and neat, clean and oh-so-gay.

Standing before the window, by the double sink (one of which is an insinkorator/garbage disposal unit), I can see clear, fresh daylight outside between the thin wooden venetian blinds. There’s trees and lawn outside, and flowers: ’That’s where I want to be,’ I think to myself.

Simon appears at the doorway of the kitchen and my heart instantly trebles in size; then trebles in size again, pressing up against my chest painfully. I feel like I want to vomit and explode at the same time.

I’m forced to back myself up into a corner of the kitchen, my lower back pressed up against the kitchen bench, as he walks towards me in a slow, steady manner, his eyes never leaving me. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me. I want to scream but am too frozen with dread and terror to try.

In a fairly casual manner, he leans against the sink, looking at me… and at last he speaks… but the words are lost to me: I can’t remember them. But I do remember his tears.

His face changes. It becomes twisted and contorted with a mixture of rage and frustration (and perhaps hatred?), and tears begin to fall from his eyes. But these tears are tears of fire… they drip down onto the floor; others drip onto the metal sink…. Quickly, small blazes appear all over the kitchen. But I am stuck, unable to get around him and I also know (somehow – as so often happens in dreams) that I’m locked within the house with him: that there is no escape…

The kitchen is ablaze and fills fast with choking smoke. I’m trembling with terror but he just stands there, unscathed, seemingly unconcerned by the raging flames, with a never ending stream of bright burning tears coursing from his hate-filled eyes….

… And then I wake up…

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