In which The Author has his medication increased
As my regular readers will know, Dr Mahmoud recently recommended a change of medication. I’m now taking 45mg of Mirtazapine at night – which seems to have unlocked the door to my weird dreamworld again. Today I’d like to tell you about two places where I go in my dreams: the first is a recurring feature of my nocturnal wanderings; the second is a one-off (so far, anyway), but had all the hallmarks of becoming a regular haunt. I’m putting them together, as they have a vague theme in common, and probably speak volumes about the way my mind works.
The first one is a newsagent’s shop, which has a close resemblance (physically) to Bob Mock’s old shop in Trecynon. It’s very difficult to picture the square in Trecynon when I was growing up, as it’s changed quite a bit. I might do a separate entry about that, in fact.
Bob Mock’s shop was roughly equivalent to the half of Mr Tatlah’s shop where the newspapers, greetings cards, pet food, household wares and freezer cabinets live. It seemed much deeper than it is now – I think the present storeroom must have been part of the shopfloor.
Anyway, the shop in question is always quite dimly lit, with a rack of newspapers and magazines just inside the door, and a counter at the opposite end. In the middle, there’s a display of stationery and toys. In my dreams, I’m usually browsing through the periodicals, and often manage to find some obscure bondage magazines tucked amongst them.
The second place is one which turned up in my dream a couple of days ago. I was in a part of Cardiff which I vaguely recognised, but which doesn’t exist on the ground. (It was around the corner from Dillons Bookstore, roughly where Halfords and MVC used to be, on The Hayes, before that whole block was demolished and St David’s 2 was built.)
There was a new development there, with a very impressive shop on several levels, brightly lit in a sort of science fiction style. Music was blasting from speakers, but I was the only customer in there. The displays were full of high-tech gear (cameras, stereos, laptops, and so forth), but it was the shop staff that really stuck in my mind. They were all young, female, and very pretty, wearing tight white rubber poloneck tops and black rubber trousers. Some of them had quite geeky glasses as well, and I remember one gorgeous redhead asked me if I needed any help. I told her I was looking for the magazine section, and she directed me to a corner of the building where there was a very impressive range of ‘specialist’ literature. While I was browsing, she told me that there was also an ‘adults only’ section behind a secret door.