K Comes Back To Life Again

20 years after his death, K comes back to life again - it's all very real.

He always thought I was lazy and messy: 

he will start to spring clean, painting over old paintwork, cleaning out my drawers of rubbish and replacing it with his neatly folded socks. 

He will read my dream diary and see how he keeps coming back to life.  He will be disgusted at my lack of ambition.

Yellow Dress

I get invited to this Roman toga party and end up wearing a lemon yellow nylon nightie and a blonde wig. Too much yellow I think - not very flattering - and the wig changes to black but is inside out.  I am  younger and more muscular than usual. 

Am I safe? I wonder as I clamber through a burrow into the town's library. 

I get the odd look but no-one is really aggressive and the overall feeling is one of liberation.

Assault On Kid Gloves

Hanging in the sky are Mum's many pairs of kid gloves, which a rabble of street children are fighting over.  

She is unfairly accused by the law and loses her licence temporarily. The moral to all potential jurors is the police sometimes lie in order to attain their required monthly record of convictions.

Shirt Sermon

I deliver an improvised speech/sermon on my eating habits and collection of shirts telling anecdotes about each one. I have no trouble entertaining the small crowd until M comes in late hurling abuse at me.  She upsets herself more than anyone else and gets little sympathy.

Learning Disabilities Workshop

I recognise few of the learning disabled group in the large hall. Areas have been set aside on three long trestle tables for hair brushing, makeup and clothes making. I make a brief announcement asking everyone to make their way to the clothes stall. One man stands up and chants some kind of grace which annoys me a bit. The group collect their clothes which I notice are predominantly drawings rather than real garments. Some of the drawings are very beautiful.

Black Wedding

Chris and I have discovered that Maggie is getting married and has invited loads of friends but only mentioned it to us at the last minute. Everyone arrives in smart black outfits with Maggie in a long elegant black dress and her hair recently "done". Feeling underdressed, we go through the formalities of saying how gorgeous she looks, although Chris particularly is really upset not to have been asked beforehand. We head off to another appointment.

Early Release

The government are releasing prisoners early. A billboard poster shows two of the latest to be set free - one is a man in fancy dress, the other is Sophie in a pink nylon party frock with puffed sleeves.
They are not criminals, so why were they in prison? It seems absurd that anyone should have locked them up in the first place.

Santa Claus Shop Assistants

I thought we would have the store to ourselves but it is full of shop assistants dressed in Santa Claus outfits. "In preparation for the Christmas brochure," I explain to the nervous woman with me. I step into a lift with an acutely angled floor and head for the basement, realising too late that I have left her behind with all the Santas. I am carrying a pickaxe.

Fashion Advice

I am squeezing through tiny doorways in an old fashioned shopping complex in Newcastle. Endless dull rooms of womens' clothing. A short teenage girl is trying on some very tight ripped green shorts. "Excuse me," she asks me, " Do you think these fit ok?" "Are they comfortable?" I ask. "No." "Well I wouldn't buy them then." I am flattered a teenager should ask my opinion on fashion. Must be because my new black cord suit looks so good.

Labour Of Love

I am touched that Mum has spent so much time knitting me a cardigan. I put it on. It has a high collar, ridiculously wide shoulders and leg of mutton sleeves. On the outside it is scrambled egg yellow (my favourite colour I tell her), inside is a separate wool lining in greys and pastel shades. It is huge and misshapen. I'll never be able to wear it. I try it on inside out discovering that I am already wearing a waistcoat, two beige cardigans and a scarlet sequinned shirt, so it looks even bulkier when I remove all those.
"It's great, Mum," I say, "a perfect fit."