The Fishmonger’s Toilet

My dream has a sense of foreboding.

I am in a flat. It’s night. I think it’s Dee’s flat but she’s away and there is nothing to eat except for two family size bags of cheese puffs. They are unopened and I don’t want to open them without her say so.

The curtains are drawn, and it feels like I’m in a dorm room although we are on the ground floor.

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