The Subconcious.

Last night I had a dream:

It was Saturday morning, and I was on platform 13 at London Bridge Station, waiting for the train to Peckham Rye.

On a whim, I had flown to London on Friday night, hoping to surprise Heather and the family by visiting them for one day, and flying back Sunday afternoon.

I had planned the trip perfectly, bringing only enough money for a weekend Rail/Tube pass, a curry, a 20-pound top-up on my UK mobile, approximately 10 pints and a trip to Borough market.

Nervous and shaking, with tears in my eyes and smiling ear-to-ear, I arrived on the front steps of the Anderwoods home.

Knock-knock. Waiting, waiting. Shuffling from foot-to-foot in the brisk, spring air.

Heather opens the door and sees me...stunned. She doesn't say anything as I start to squeal and throw my arms around her. We both start laughing, pulling back to look at each other then hugging again.

Suddenly, I'm in the living room with Heather, Fred, Rocco and even Dave, all snuggling on the big, leather couch. Talking and laughing. So happy to be together, if only for a day.

I woke up warm from the memory, but sad that the reality is so far away...

...or is it??