I seem to have dropped into a dream in which I am sat at the dining table at home typing words into a phone.

In this dream I occasionally awaken into a a state where my eyes are closed and yet I can see a pram being pushed alongside a river containing babies that float upstream on hamsters accompanied by a commentary from a squeaky Edgar Allan Poe doll. The pram contains nothing but maps of Jamaica rendered in wax crayon.

I’m happy to fall back asleep, as you can well imagine.


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