Houses

For the past year or so, I've had recurring dreams of houses. They are houses I'm moving into in Leeds. They are perfect. I always have an improbably enormous bedroom. Or two rooms, linked together. But then my subconscious kicks into overdrive, adding extra rooms and features until the houses become weird: chandeliers, cobwebs, medieval chapels. The last house I dreamed of had a dark lounge room stuffed with bricabrac - ten foot medieval tapestries, and a near life-size statue of a knight on a horse. As the house grows, I get confused. Sometimes I am lost and I can't find the house.

The last house I dreamed of had a garden and a lemon tree. It was shiny in the sun. I wanted it so badly.