Monday, July 19, 2010

The Strange Dreams of Selwyn Dean

It was, I thought, a huge stretch of the imagination. I'd just parked in a woodland car-park next to the university and let the dogs out to pee. Now I was talking to an angel with a broken wing splinted with a ski pole and duct tape.

"What are you supposed to be? A clerk?" He looked at me with one eyebrow raised as he considered my attire. Jeans, blouse, boots, woollen coat and fedora. I'd dumped my handbag in the boot and stuffed my purse and keys in a pocket, the better to pass as a man in the shadows of the trees.

"No, a bursar." I made to walk away but he stepped in front of me.

"Have you met God?"

I thought he was joking and shook my head slowly. "No, though I do have an appointment to get to..."

"Yes, an appointment with God." He pointed further into the trees with a foam sword.

"In the wood?" I looked dubious but he velcroed his sword to his belt and took my arm.

"No, silly. On the other side."

I pulled away. "He's dead?"

"He's the Dean, but mostly he's in the pub on the other side of the wood."

"Oh." I looked back at the car. Both dogs were lying on the parcel shelf. "Will this take long?"

"No. Selwyn's too busy writing the next scenario."

I shook my head. It served me right for applying for a university job on a live roleplaying weekend.




Image: Strange dreams... by Photographer Sergei Bizyaev

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