This is what I dreamt on the final night of the Christmas holidays. Today is the start of school for my kids. All back to normal. My least favourite day of the year, other than dental appointments.
I swam to France, irked that my Dad hadn’t offered to drive me when I mentioned my plan to him.
Once on dry land I just kept walking. Down the busy roads, along the quieter streets, into the countryside. Valleys. Hills. Mountains.
I crossed borders into warzones, narrowly escaping with my life into dense jungle where a mist fell, enshrouding unknown creatures in the beyond.
In a clearing of the gloom was a man in a white suit sitting on a fold-out chair who warned me, ‘This is where it ends. Go any further and you’ll never be seen again.’