Blue Midnight

I’m dreaming as I write this. I am sat at work in an office chair with some of the toys that populate the office sat on my desk. They are furry little things that are members of the “blue nose gang” and their names are Jingle, Chalky and Patch. In the real world this fact would not be a major one, but this is my dream and they seem important to me so I feel I should mention them. I know that I do not own them, not in this world or the real one. I don’t actually know who owns them, and unless I’m mistaken I don’t believe my waking self does either.
Earlier I walked the length of the office to the photocopier and back when the notion that I was in a dream hit me. I remembered waking and thinking it was Sunday, the clock said it was Sunday (though it also said it was December as well) and I could not remember there already being a Sunday this week; so the notion that I was in a dream seemed a pertinent one.

The only problem with this notion is that its daylight outside of the office windows and, as I’ve mentioned before, it always seems just after midnight in my mind.

A “white night” perhaps?

I have dreamed of daytime before this, so though it is unusual, it certainly isn’t unique. After all I’m dreaming that I’m an office worker so also dreaming of a bright blue day shouldn’t be such a surprise. This is a mundane dream is all, no flights of terror or mystical beginning tonight. Tonight I am just a normal man.

Theres an attraction to that idea.

“Normalcy”.

Hmm.

I look through the paperwork that sits on the desk in front of me, one is for a “David Anderson”, isn’t that Bruce Willis’ character in Moonlighting? Another one is for a person named “Nikkalas”.

If I needed any more evidence there it is.

I don’t think I’ve ever had such a vivid dream, the work is mundane and probably deathly dull but the knowledge that it truly doesn’t matter makes me enjoy it.

I try to think of what I do in the real world but I can’t remember with any certainty.

Re-reading this I feel that I’m a writer, perhaps a novelist, though I feel that I also write for film as well. I also feel strongly that I’m well liked, loved even by some.

I’m embarrased to think of it but I really believe that some people even have a little admiration for what I do.

If only I could remember.

Now I’m convinced this is a dream.

People around me talk about emails and filing, spouting abbreviations and department titles that have absolutely no meaning to me. I watch them as I write this and I am not worried that they might notice, what would it matter if they did? They don’t of course, thats the way it is in dreams.

The little clock in the corner of my monitor informs me that its coming up to 12:00 midday dream-time.

I think “it always seems just after midnight in my mind” and I can’t help but smile. A few moments and the sun will blink out, and it will be after-midnight: you’ll see.

Just a few moments…

Thats all…

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