Sunday, May 22, 2005
The Seated Man
In my dream I am driving an Aston Martin along English country lanes. I cut corners. I'm on the gas. I think 'Oh, that really doesn't go with my Aston Martin' as I drive through the shadow of a wind farm. This is North Yorkshire. And I woke up to Wogan!
I'm on a long straight. No other traffic in sight. Summer evening sunshine. To my right, a raised hedgerow provides a natural barrier. To my left, across cut grass 10 metres from the road, a fence marks the perimeter of a field. In the distance I see a figure. The figure appears to be sitting on a bench. Approaching, imminently to pass at speed, I guess the figure to be a walker. I ease off the gas. Eyeing the seated figure, I note that it is an old man with a shepherd's crook. He looks up, smiling an knowing smile. It is a knowing smile. He seems to recognise me, but I am lost as to who he is. Maybe he had a brief run in Last of the Summer Wine. I don't know. A few seconds later, watching the figure in the mirror disappear to a dot, I realise that that was not a bench upon which he sat. That was an enormous Cadbury's Boost. I wonder whether the sun part-melted the Boost-seat thus rendering the old man stuck in a chocolatey fix. This provokes a moment of anxiety. I didn't stop to check. He didn't seem to mind. I wonder who he was. I feel sick.
[by Shane]
I'm on a long straight. No other traffic in sight. Summer evening sunshine. To my right, a raised hedgerow provides a natural barrier. To my left, across cut grass 10 metres from the road, a fence marks the perimeter of a field. In the distance I see a figure. The figure appears to be sitting on a bench. Approaching, imminently to pass at speed, I guess the figure to be a walker. I ease off the gas. Eyeing the seated figure, I note that it is an old man with a shepherd's crook. He looks up, smiling an knowing smile. It is a knowing smile. He seems to recognise me, but I am lost as to who he is. Maybe he had a brief run in Last of the Summer Wine. I don't know. A few seconds later, watching the figure in the mirror disappear to a dot, I realise that that was not a bench upon which he sat. That was an enormous Cadbury's Boost. I wonder whether the sun part-melted the Boost-seat thus rendering the old man stuck in a chocolatey fix. This provokes a moment of anxiety. I didn't stop to check. He didn't seem to mind. I wonder who he was. I feel sick.
[by Shane]

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