Give Me Back My Restful Dreams

Finally the end of a long day, after a troubled night. I had a restless sleep, after a monstrous vision appeared in my dreams last night.

Don’t ask me why, but I dreamed I was travelling in a lift with Garth McVicar, and that he was an important client of my firm. Don’t ask me why the Sensible Sentencing Trust needs IP help, though I guess they could do with trade marking their name. Anyway, despite McVicar being a Really Important Client, I couldn’t help myself, and I ended up losing the plot at him. In the confines of the lift I left him in no doubt about my views on the insane policies of the Sensible Sentencing Trust, and on various idiotic utterances by its leader.

But he just stood there, smiling, as if nothing I said or did made a blind bit of difference. I knew at that point that I wanted to kill him.

Rest assured, it was only a dream, and Mr McVicar need not arm himself with a gun or anything like that, because I won’t come knocking. Even in my dream he didn’t come to any harm. I don’t recall how the dream ended, but it didn’t end in a bloodbath. And because I know the way my readers’ prurient minds work, let me assure you that we certainly didn’t get naked. I would remember something as scarring as that. Alternatively, the event was so shocking my mind has blanked it out. Urgh!

So what I want to know is this: why are you haunting my dreams, Garth McVicar? Shame on you!

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