Last Night's Dream:
I was in Bromsgrove, walking down All Saint's Road towards Stourbridge Road and some tough-looking men in suits got out of a car and walked with me. We looked like a gangster entourage, like the opening of Reservoir Dogs, only I wasn't part of it, I'd jut somehow gotten caught up in it.
They were all coughing and spitting to make themselves look even tougher. After I'd moved away from them, I started coughing too. Then I spat a small blob of pink foam out into the road, into the gutter. I coughed and spat some more and realised I was spitting out multi-coloured snail shells.
On the corner, I met a man who was lost. He had a smartphone and was looking at it, but he asked "do you know round here?" I said that I'd lived here when I was younger so might not remember everywhere. He said he was looking for Walker Street. I couldn't remember anything like that so started looking at my phone but it was loading very slowly.
We went into a café just down the road. A young woman as sitting with a baby at the table next to us. Her husband brought in a tray with tea and cakes for them and they both started smoking. He stubbed his cigarette out on a large greasy dinner plate and I could see the same pink foam from before.
The woman, his wife, said "could you stub that cigarette out like a real smoker, not some effeminate cannibal?"
And my alarm rang to wake me up.
