Read After Covid…27

Before the pandemic…

Read After Burnout

Last night the dreams came. I had been sleeping deeply for the weeks previous but then they started to creep in, slipping through the small fissures in night’s oblivion. I don’t always remember them in the detail that I would want – mainly it’s just an imprint, a nagging feeling of something that may have happened. Last night’s was about a big old four-bar gate.

In need of some white paint.

My wife and I were at a younger stage in our lives, before children and well before the light had begun to fade on our optimism. That’s how I see it now, a landscape that was once a canopy of sunlight, faded with the arrival of clouds, my shadow shortening as the problems of a nebulous world drift in from some place else. This dream was one of those that had not yet been affected by cloud-cover. We were…

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