I was the Duchess of Canterbury around 100 years ago (or it could have been 1400-1500CE judging by the morphing dream fashion and strange sense of time). After arriving at church it is discovered that in another church a lord has been murdered and the blame is being laid at my feet. Since the clergy had been witness to my being in their church at the time the murder is said to have taken place they give me sanctuary and attempt to discover what really happened. I am made to wait in a luxuriously furnished tower room and feel a bit like Mary Queen of Scots.
The dream morphs as I stop reading my book and exit the bus. I walk to the supermarket and a man with a trolley of groceries asks for a volunteer. I step forward as no one else is willing and he announces that I have won all the items in the trolley. I feel happy at seeing a nice bag of red apples on the top.
2 comments:
I have decided that every comment here forth in this diary will be in haiku format. Dreams such as these deserve nothing less.
Rosy Duchess Cheeks
Apples the fine prize for she.
Smiling at her win.
<3 love your style!
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