…which may or may not have been a result of eating half a chocolate rabbit for dinner, after getting back from work at 10pm, (it’s the dairy products, so I’m told). I can’t remember the start of it, but basically I was out with mum, dad and a younger version of my brother (back when he was 11 I reckon), when a giant tsunami struck. It swept us up… and instead of screaming for her life and demonstrating the ultimate motherly panic, my mum popped her head up from the frothy waves and said quite calmly: “We’d better swim towards Market Rasen”.
Now, for those who don’t know, Market Rasen is actually a town and civil parish within the West Lindsey district of Lincolnshire, England. And it’s shit. Why anyone would want to swim there having survived a giant tsunami in Australia is beyond me, but hey, that’s the logic of dreams… and maybe of my mum.
Anyway, so we get to Market Rasen, having been swept up in about three more tsunamis on the way, and there’s a little red house made of wooden planks, and an elderly man who beckons us inside. Only inside, it’s more like a youth club, complete with scruffy couches, Russell Brand and a chiwauwa. Yes, Russell Brand had also survived the tsunami, which started in Australia and swept us quite effortlessly into Market Rasen.
Well of course I was delighted. Russell’s my dream man, so should he be the only male survivor of a global tragedy eligible for mating with, God’s done a fine job of answering my prayers… albeit whilst ignoring absolutely everyone elses:
“Prevent global disasters, you say? Well how can I possibly be doing that? I have to make sure Becky Wicks ends up with Russell Brand!”
“Awww, thanks God, that’s really nice of you but…”
“Oh, no, no, don’t be silly Becky. You’re perfect for each other! Here’s a little tsunami to kill off all competition.”
The chiwauwa was so cute and even smaller than a regular chiwauwa, which are all pretty bloody small anyway. Towards the end of the dream, when our little red house had been struck with about 15 more tsunamis and a wall of fire which was actually a moving pier with a flaming fairground on it, the dog was all wet and dead in my arms… very sad. Everyone kept on surviving all these disasters until the very end, when we all spotted the biggest tsunami of all coming towards us. At this point, my friend Autumn, who miraculously appeared from nowhere as friends often do in dreams, put a spade next to me and said that if it sliced me in half when the wave struck, it would be better than drowning, which I thought was remarkably considerate of her.
They say that if you die in your dream, you actually die in real life. I’m not really sure who presented this theory, as surely anyone with proof would already be dead. But true to form, just as the wave was about to strike and the spade was about to hit me, I woke up, made myself some coffee and wrote it all down. What do you think it means? I’ll be damned if I know, but I won’t be eating any chocolate rabbits for dinner again tonight, that’s for sure.