A Dream -- Tuesday 8 September

I'm dancing with grandma's letters on a stage bathed in stardust. They're playing 'The Sound of Silence' - her words echoing like distant galaxies, as we pirouette around Attlee's Welfare State clockwork. Her perfume scent dances with sunlight patterns from my childhood bedroom, chasing shadows away. Laughter echoes through the halls of our youth, harmonizing with my old piano notes, while personal growth plants reach for the stars above.