i haven't had a holiday in two years.
this fact is really starting to gather some weight.
i find myself pausing outside travel agents and staring at young carefree plastic holiday snow bunnies with million dollar smiles and honey roasted tans. they know all the secrets of the universe because they're on holiday. i know nothing, because i'm not.
i really need a holiday.
this morning i dreamt i was riding a bike on a freeway overpass.
i'm riding up the hill, the only thing i can see is the sky and just below that, the faint blurry outline of mountains in the distance.
this drops me into an ocean of calm.
nothing else matters anymore.
slow languid movement into deep blue nothing.
then something is happening on my right.
i stop riding. the bike disappears. i look down to the freeway below.
i'm suddenly standing on the freeway. wide open countryside surrounds.
there's been an accident.
off to the side of the road there's a station wagon on the grass on its roof. i can its hear engine ticking.
across the road there are patches of smeared blood and white fur.
i look back to the side of the road and there are two huge St Bernards lying on their sides panting heavily. Concerned paramedics in blue jumpsuits crouch over them.
there's an electric afternoon stillness over everything.
i hear a yelp and look back to the freeway to see a small white dog running from side to side on the road. there are clouds of smoke rising off the dogs back.
this small smoking dog runs off down the middle of the road, tail wagging and occasionally barking.