I’m
in a hotel apartment with my boss. We’re in Liverpool attending a conference
about the dangers of tobacco. I’m lying on top of the stripped red and black
bed sheets reading a book while my boss is on the phone trying to arrange an
evening out with one of his friends. I’m reading through the chapter headings
in the book trying to find out the name of the person that he’s on the phone
to. The door opens and a young blonde woman walks in with an elderly couple who
proceeds to show them around the apartment. She explains to them that they’re
fully booked at the moment; but she can arrange somewhere for them to store
their belongings when they depart on Friday. I wake up and start writing this
experience down. Then I wake up for real and realise that I haven’t yet started
to write this experience down.
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