Lots of semi-lucid dreams, but I wake and realise I’ve lost my resolve. So I set it again and discover myself outside a crowded railway station. I ask an oriental woman climbing into a taxi: ‘Who’s in charge?’ She points me toward the station shop.
Inside I glimpse a manager in a shirt and tie amongst the crowd. ‘Can you take me to who’s in charge?’ He gives me a knowing look.
‘There’s a new one,’ he says. ‘It’s upstairs at the back. You know, behind where the cheese used to be.’
Later, when I’ve woken but am still close to the dream state, I realise he’s referring to a long-forgotten dream of a supermarket where the shelves formed a labyrinth and you had to purchase items in strict order, because it was hard to find your way back to a particular shelf.
I follow the manager, taking trouble not to bump into passersby because it would jolt me awake. It’s quite a distance to the back of the shop. There’s a certain attitude that maintains lucidity, which has nothing to do with either concentrating or not concentrating. For the moment, I have it. We pass through a doorway hung with plastic streamers. The spiny edge of each plastic strip feels so real. And here we are, in a dingy room at the back of the shop, stacked with crates. It’s unclear whether there’s a lift or stairs. A sign that says ’13′ is fixed to the wall and next to it a red indicator light, currently off. The way is up, but I’m doubting I’ll make it. The manager is trying to arrange it, but I sense that whatever is upstairs knows too that there won’t be time.
A male voice shouts down to me that it can manifest only for fixed periods of ten minutes, during which it tries to make its presence known in this world. It tells me other things, but it’s difficult to understand. The dream is breaking up.
I wake to a peculiar presence in the dark morning that has spilled over from the dream. The day presents itself as immense, exciting, with a personality all its own: autumnal, loaded with mystery and meaning in a way I have not felt since childhood.
This is the manifestation of the being above the shop. It confers meaning. It is the angel that decides for us the character of our days.
