Strange Dream ©
By
Michael Casey
I had a funny dream the other night, my daughter said it was “stereotypical YOU” I just thought it was weird, is my daughter calling me weird? Well the dream revolved around us house hunting, we found this really great place and we were trying to work out would everything fit. So there was a strange shaped bedroom and I was wondering would a bed fit into the space. So I cut a bed that belonged to the owner in half and shoved it into the space provided.
Now how I managed to cut a bed in half, I don’t know, it wasn’t made of cake nor cheese. We really loved the house, and it was just right, like the baby bears porridge. Just call me Goldilocks instead of silver locks if you like. So then as we talked to the owner we did not want him to find out that I’d cut one of his beds in half. Only he was livid and then wanted to screw me on the price of the house, because he knew I wanted it so much and I had just been a bad magician. No Paul Daniels was I, you come into my home and saw my bed in half.
But it was an old bed, and I’ll give you a good price for your house. But you sawed it in half. And he kept on saying, but you sawed it in half. He had a ball in his hand and kept on squeezing it and passing it from hand to hand. Just like in that old film where the commander of a ship does the same with his balls, metal balls that is. The owner of the house kept on repeating himself.
I was going to buy his house and he was bitching about an old bed, it wasn’t even an antique. And how did I manage to cut it in half? Magic I said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Magic,Magic, Magic you stupid fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham the one in England, he spluttered, it was too large a line for any writer to put in anybody’s mouth. But the owner had to say it because I am putting words in his mouth, and it is my dream after all.
That bed belonged to Paul Daniels, he was born in it, I was going to put it on the Antiques Road Show, now PUFF it’s broken. Not even magic could fix it you stupid fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham the one in England he again spluttered.
He was so exasperated he reached for his pills, or was it Pils and took an aspirin too. Only instead of putting the aspirin in his mouth from his left palm he shoved his ball in his mouth from his right palm. Then he began to choke. I did think should I let him choke, and get a better deal from his widow. But I had done first aid training at the CPNEC many years ago, so my training kicked in. I had also seen Mrs Doubtfire on tv the night before.
So I grabbed and squeezed him, but entirely in a masculine way, he went redder and redder, when a 248 pound man squeezes you even a brown bear would go red. Then I slapped him in the stomach, maybe a bit too hard. He had hurt my feelings after all. The ball popped out and his wife slapped it straight out the window with a tennis racket, she’d just come home from practise and reacted instinctively.
Her husband fell to the ground in pain, but still alive. She looked up at me disappointed, she whispered, if you let the bugger die I’d have given you a discount on the price of the house.
And did we buy the fantastic house? Well I woke up like a Vampire as I do every 2 hours, so I don’t know. Normally it’s impossible to get back into your dream, there is no rewind on dreams. I’m just curious, no joking please. I am curious why I had this dream now. Perhaps a dream dictionary would explain. And no this is not an April Fool for 1st April 2019 But at least it’s another story to add to the 2000 or so, just be good enough and buy some books on Amazon, or am I just a fool to keep on writing these without any reward?
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