Personally, I wouldn’t dream of becoming a miner but Chris would; in fact, he did just that last night. Now I hardly dream at all because Chris is a bit of a snorer (an understatement, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings by making a big thing of it – you understand). Chris, on the other hand, often dreams and last night was no exception; he told me about it when he came back to bed with our cups of tea.
“I dreamt I was a miner last night,” he told me.
“Oh yes?” I tried to show some interest though I was still half-asleep on account of our late night (we had to feed my niece’s cat at midnight because they are away camping in Cornwall and I forgot to feed the cat earlier in the day!).
“Yes, I was wearing a miner’s mask (I smiled to myself) and helmet with a light on the top,” Chris said.
“Like a proper miner then?”
“Yes, and we were digging a tunnel – I think it was a tunnel…”
“So you weren’t alone?”.
“No, there was a team of us. Anyway, as I was digging away into the rock my pickaxe went back, struck someone behind me and killed him.”
“How horrible!” I sympathised.
“Yes, well the other miners said that we’d all get the blame so we went outside and closed the tunnel. It was awful – I could hardly breathe behind my mask – and when we were outside the others took their masks off but I couldn’t.”
“Ah, we both know why you had that dream – don’t we?” I responded.
Chris laughed.
“And how did you sleep last night Darling?” Chris asked.
“Very well, for once thank you. I even managed to sleep deeply enough to have a dream myself; I dreamt that Mary (my sister) had lost weight and wore a skimpy bikini to show off her enviable figure (which, indeed, I envied),” I replied.
“So you’ll be wanting me to wear that snoring mouth-guard every night from now on? (I nodded.) And I suppose that tomorrow night I’ll be dreaming about eating chewy calamari?”
