Dreamblr

I’m not sure why we were there. Dog minding maybe, but that’s absurd... we don’t like dogs. Their family were back and it was early morning. Breakfast was not so much served but available if you cared to serve yourself. My uber-polite upbringing demanded FHB, so even though I wasn’t their family, I held back, not sure of the form. Mrs H was tucking in.

They live just yards across the High Street so why tf did we stay for breakfast? And how and when the hell would I get some?

Then I woke up, starving.

Aren’t dreams strange?