I shot up in my bed, and shivered. I couldn’t see my face, but if I had been able to, I suspect that I would have been as pale as a ghost. I glanced at the alarm clock of hatred, sitting on the bedside locker beside me. It was 3.30am. I felt relieved. I had another four hours left to sleep.
Staggering to the kitchen, I opened the cupboard and selected two of McVitie’s finest digestive biscuits. I was distressed and sweating. Some sugar would help. I don’t think the low blood sugars were the only cause for my concern however. The content of my dream had been most troubling.
The dream had involved a scenario in which the leader of North Korea – murderous dictator Kim-Jong Un – had romantic designations on me, and wanted to make me his love slave. He had been chasing me through the rooms and dungeons of King John’s Castle in Limerick City, demanding that I requite his love. Continue reading ‘I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight…’