The other night I had a vivid and eerie dream. A yeti with grey fur was preying on an urban population. Every night it killed one human at midnight. Nobody knew where it lived or how to catch it.
Then one day I had an idea and tried to contact someone with my mobile, but there was no reply. Impatiently, I set off to find the person. I was in such a hurry I was only vaguely aware of people passing me in the opposite direction – nobody was going the same way I was. And suddenly the people were all gone and it was silent. I stopped and looked around – I was in a basement car park, and it was quite dark except for dim yellow lighting. The person I was looking for wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and it said 10 to 12. “Uh oh,” I thought – WHY didn’t I check the time before coming out here? I better get back while I still have 10 minutes.”
I turned round and walked back quickly – I hadn’t gone very far when there was a “rrrraaaarghhhh!” and something wrapped huge hairy arms round me from behind, lifting me off my feet. I couldn’t see the yeti at all – just felt myself rise in the air, feet dangling, those hairy grey arms locked tight across my chest.
You know how, when something awful happens, things seem to happen in slow motion? The yeti started to sling me face down on the floor, and I saw the concrete tilt and come towards me – as though it was the floor moving, not me. The closer I got to the floor, the more detail I could see – the yellow lines painted on it, and a large yellow number, ‘4’. I could see the pits in the paint where the concrete had worn through.
Still watching the floor coming nearer, I thought to myself “I’m used to detailed dreams, but this one takes the biscuit!”
Just before I hit the floor, I woke up, clutching the downie under my chin…