Jul 9, 2001
Dream (ix)
Last night I dreamed I was making bread – brown bread, with a little bit of honey, for taste, the way my mum used to make it – and feeding it to someone I love, breaking warm chunks off with my fingers and popping them in his mouth.
That was the whole dream – no excitement, no fuss, no great drama. And yet it was immensely satisfying and cosy and wonderful, and I wanted it to go on forever.











