Another Odd Dream

In which The Author does exactly what it says on the tin

I had another peculiar dream this morning and, as often happens, some old friends from the bookshop turned up in it. This time it must have been a semi-lucid dream, because I remember laughing at the end of it.
I’d had a minor operation on my shoulder again. While I was sitting in hospital waiting for the consultant to give me the nod to leave, I spotted Jeff T. wandering past. I called him over and we had a chat. He’d been visiting his father, who’d had a scare with his heart again. He told me that he was still working, but had somehow hooked up with a woman who was a born-again Christian. As a result, he’d had to give up the beer. (That was when I knew I was dreaming!)
The next phase of the dream took place in the old Dillons bookshop. It was about this time of year, maybe a little bit later, as the pre-Xmas promotions were in full swing. I was still bandaged from my op, and was able to floor-walk but not do any lifting. Clare L. came along, also bandaged for some reason. A young girl working there, probably a Xmas temp, said she felt a bit left out. Clare and I looked at each other with the same idea.
I said, ‘You get the bandages, I’ll get the tape – let’s make lots of mummy.’
A terrible pun, I know, but it made me laugh when I woke up.

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