What is this?



This is a blog where I'll be writing up any dreams I feel I'm awake enough to write about. I may even do some analysis.

Treat this as a Dream Diary, basically.

Monday 10 July 2017

9th of July 17 - The Train Station

I’m trying to get to Edinburgh via train, but I don’t want to pay for a full price ticket it seems. I don’t know where I’m going from, though the location doesn’t feel unfamiliar.

I’m with someone, a woman, short hair and a white tee. We get to the station, buy a ticket at the ‘reception area’, then make our way to a ticket barrier. This place feels like a futuristic station designed a decade ago, lots of greys and whites. We slip past the barrier into a corridor we are not meant to go down. There is a lot of machinery, moving platforms and boxes.

We decide this route is far too much a risk and leave, hoping that the desk clerk hasn’t noticed us.

We leave the station, into the centre of whatever town this is. It’s dark, early night time, and completely empty. Small cobbled streets and cramped buildings guide us to a pub at the bottom of a hill, in a small town square. We discuss our plan of action, and when we believe we know what we’re doing, we leave.

We make it past the front desk again but immediately something is wrong. The receptionist/cashier is far too smug, and as we make it to the corridor we know we’re caught out. We do our best to get out as quickly as possible, not before the female companion I’m with is knocked down though.

At some point she is scanned or biopsied, and it is determined she has an obstruction of either her uterus or her kidneys. A dead baby is pulled out (of somewhere?) and we realise she must have miscarried. I can recall her face; mouth open in shock, grey clammy skin, eyes glazed over.

I end up back in the cosy pub, this time with my SO, we are waiting for a friend of mine to arrive. He does, we talk about how we’re actually paying for the train this time, and make our way to the station.

We pay full price, and calmly move into a corridor where we are actually allowed to be. We pass a barrier with a guard there, he stops me and asks if I’m allergic to peanuts. I say I am, so he offers me some of his milkshake. I believe it’s made from cabbage.

The tunnel/passage we enter is several hundred meters long, packed full of people. It feels like a great bazaar, a market full... of home-wares. My SO is entranced and wants to spend a lot of time hunting for purchases. We have a train to catch though.

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