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In Your Dreams
Kevin took another sip of strong black
coffee, trying to fight off sleep. His mind drifted back to his
repose of the previous night. In his dream he had been talking to
his attractive young neighbour, and she had invited him in for
coffee. One thing had led to another, and soon they had been
upstairs making love with unbounded passion.
Such is the nature of dreams that he had
given no thought to the psychopathic gorilla with whom she lived.
He might have assumed that violence resulting from pathological
jealousy had once again led her partner to a spell in Broadmoor
maximum security hospital? This would have been proved wrong,
however, when the bedroom door was smashed from its hinges and
Boris had lurched into the room waving his lucky, sawn-off
shotgun.
With an arm and a leg blown off, Kevin had
awoken just before hitting the concrete at the end of his journey
from the bedroom window to the patio.
Kevin had been shaken on waking but had put
the nightmare behind him until he had encountered Boris on the
way to the shops.
Boris pinned him to a wall. ‘What were
you f***ing doin’ last night?’
‘NN..Nothing. I went to bed early.’
‘Bloody right yer did, and if I find
yer in one of Susan’s dreams again, yer’ll be in bed
for the rest of yer f***in’ life.’
‘But that was just a dream. I can’t
control my unconscious.’
‘If yer don’t, yer will be
f***in’ unconscious tomorrow.’
As Kevin recalled these events of the past
24 hours, his eyelids became heavier. ‘Must stay awake...
Must stay awake... Mustn’t dream of next door...........’
Suddenly he was standing stark naked in
next door’s bedroom and - what was this in his hand? - shit,
an eight foot long dildo! Boris’ voice could be heard as the
door opened. There was no time to hide. They stood facing one
another.
Kevin thought quickly. ‘Just thought I’d
drop over to apologise for last night.’ He smiled weakly.
‘Like f*** yer did.’
Boris reached for his shotgun. Kevin rushed
forward to grab it. They struggled. Both barrels fired.
Kevin looked down at the gory mess which
had once been Boris.
‘Thank heavens you’ve killed that
monster,’ said Susan as she led him to bed.
Susan drove away from the maximum security
prison hospital. Now Boris was serving life, she somehow felt a
visit every couple of months was the least she could do. The
inability to dream had further destabilised his mental state. The
doctors had never really understood, however, why he should blame
this on a neighbour who he had murdered as a result.
She felt tired, parked at a nearby
viewpoint and closed her eyes. It seemed that every couple of
months she would have this same dream of visiting Kevin. In her
dream she somehow felt it was the least she could do now he was
serving life for the murder of Boris.
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