The other day at work we were discussing dreams. Although they fascinate a lot of people, I've never paid particular attention to them - indeed for years I swore I never had any!
This wasn't true, of course, but I genuinely never (or at least very very rarely) remembered them. In more recent years, I have become more aware of waking from dreams but they always dissipate rapidly. Sometimes I regret not writing them down but only if they have been a good story - I'm not interested in psycho-analysing them!
At times I've had dreams that those who do seek to interpret them would describe as classic stress dreams. At other times I've had serial dreams with recurring characters on a regular (or semi-regular) basis. Once or twice I've had dreams where I've woken up at the moment of my death and these remain the most memorable - and my favourites.
Well, I say they're my favourites but they're actually my favourites bar one, which a former colleague of mine had and related to me the following morning. This was it:
She was at a party in a huge mansion which in her dream was the home of my parents. The party was in full swing and everything was going well when a fire broke out. As she was a fire warden at work, it was second nature for her to ensure the building was evacuated and everyone was safely accounted for.
Once all the party-goers were assembled on the lawn outside my parents' burning mansion, it was identified that I was missing from amongst them. The Fire Brigade arrived and the fire was brought under control, all the while attempts were being made to find me. Once the building was deemed safe to enter, the Firefighters duly did so...
On entering the gutted shell of the mansion, they found me hung in the stairwell of the newly charred grand staircase.
For some reason, I've always loved that story - and the various reactions of people when I (gleefully) recount it...