I had a dream a few years ago. It sticks to me, like a strange glue. It was real, as real as dreams get. Not just a dream, but as if, it was real, whilst obviously being a dream.
he said, “I have unfinished business”
So the dream is quite simple, as all dreams are. I’m walking down Milsom Street in Bath, it’s a nice day. I’m walking down the street and i pass by an old bloke who, for the life of me, looks like Samuel Beckett. I know he’s not Samuel Beckett, because he just died the other day. As we passed, I say “what are you doing here?”
and he says “I have unfinished business’
we smile, and go on our ways.
reflecting, i wonder why I never looked back to see where he was walking. it was just so casual. it was so real.