As it Unfolds...

He wanted to outrun the car and I let him. He was fully geared up in his all-white tracksuit. I revved up the engine and checked my rear-view mirror. He was gone.

I could literally feel my heart pounding against my chest. I heard a thud coming from the kitchen. My mouth turned to sand; I couldn't stand as my legs had turned to jelly. Another THUD! Fear washed over me completely as I stood, stock-still.

I finally caught up with him at the butchers' buying meat.
'Hey, I've been waiting a long time.'
'Okay, okay, no need to blow your trumpet. I don't know how you did it but you just beat me only by a couple of minutes.'
'Couple of minutes? I have been waiting for you for the last 200 years!'

Somehow I overcame my fear and tiptoed to the kitchen. All the drawers and cupboards were open, yet nothing was missing. Instinctively I looked over to the set of knives and there they stood, all of them, shining coldly in the dark night... All but one. Where was the carving knife? I crouched down on the kitchen floor.

Two hundred years? Ha, ha, very funny. So what did you buy? I bought a few flanks of meat. You don't happen to have a carving knife with you, do you? Funny you should ask...

I pity the poor soul who found me on the kitchen floor clutching on to the carving knife, in my all-white tracksuit. They must have had a heart attack! Their cry woke me up. And then I remembered, I lived alone.

I had a dream. I had a dream and then I forgot all about it. I woke up. I felt cheated again. Why can't I ever remember my dreams? I can recall bits but that's all. Should I fabricate my own dreams? Would not that be considered cheating? I can dream my dream, can't I? Why am I asking you all this? Rhetorical. In a state of half dream and half fiction some thoughts may never make sense. You decide.

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