A Dream -- Sunday 25 October

I'm dancing with a butterfly in a field of daffodils that whispers like a phonograph playing memories. Its wings are like tiny, iridescent seashells, each one a portal to a past life. I reach out to touch one, and suddenly I'm underwater, swimming among coral reefs teeming with life. The butterfly is there too, its wings now like old photographs in reverse, each one a nostalgic glimpse of home. We dance together in this underwater world, our movements synchronised, as if to the tune of Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide". I wake up with the melody still echoing in my mind, and I realise that the butterfly has found its way back home.