In my dream I’d just woken up.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watched him take his camera from a case and tell me to ‘smile’. I hate the camera as much in my dream as in real life, and he frowns at me as I pull a face.
‘Learn to love it, madam,’ he tells me, ‘I like your face.’
I’m sitting at the top of the stairs, watching him through the rails. He sings to himself as he fiddles with the sewing machine, taking parts out and rearranging them. He replaces the cover and puts it into a box, and I’m still trying to work out what he’s singing. ‘Virtual Insanity’ by Jamiroquai, I think.
I go downstairs and follow him into the dining room. He tells me he has something for me and hands me his box. I open it, and find another box inside. I keep opening boxes that are gradually smaller and darker shades of grey… what happened to the sewing machine? Finally I have a small black box in my hand, and I open it to find a miniature penguin. I start laughing, uncontrollably, until tears stream down my face and I’m unable to talk.
‘You don’t take me seriously at all, do you? You need to get over that…’ he says.