Dream Three

This is a sort of three in one.

I was standing in an airport and was told that I had successfully got some sort of administrative role with one of the flight companies, but I had to tell everyone they were fired.  Then there was a hunky celebrity involved, like Chris Hemsworth, but I can’t quite remember his function.

Then I was waiting in a cafe for my brother to meet me for breakfast in what was supposed to be New York (I think).  Every time a waitress brought out cutlery for me I had to send it back because it was dirty.  When Prem arrived, he  opened his laptop and showed me footage of my ex-boyfriend in some personal film he’d uploaded onto the internet which involved a series of short films of him as a rude boy over the years (one of him in high school, one at university and one as a middle-aged man) interspersed with images of him with glasses on looking through the screen via skype.

It was night and I was now standing in the luxurious study of a very large, domineering businessman who looked like a nasty Dan Ackroyd.  He had a number of props on his coffee table designed to illustrate the success of his company and he was quizzing me.  I kept getting the answers wrong and as a result, he would beat me with the props.  I tried to beat him back but he was too huge and far stronger than me.  He grabbed me by my hair and forced me onto all fours and tried to push my face into a bowl of dog food, screaming at me to “eat it!”  I managed to wriggle free and run out of the house and into the dark lane beside his country estate.

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