Hyontuh

I am out walking with my older brother and my American brother-in-law. My son and my brother-in-law's sons are very much in mind – I'm conscious of their presence – if not in body. We are strolling (in Reno?) somewhere and I need to leave them to get something? -

I next find myself at the house of my old Largs Primary/Secondary school friend Enn Tee in John Street(?). The home has been extended in every direction to form a 'Community Library' with a very warm, rustic and casual coffee shop feel inside, the books tucked into timber shelves around the perimeter, the airy central space rising three storeys up to a vaulted(?) ceiling complete with roof lights. Enn sits just within the entrance and, to my surprise, is wearing a nun's habit. After some random, muddled browsing we acknowledge one another and start chatting (a little awkwardly). When she takes down her habit's hood she has short blonde wiry afro hair that is, oddly, growing over her temples. Some other old school friends – Ess? + two other males and a woman – sit chatting to our left. They are all much older but their faces are still identifiable. By contrast (and thankfully) none of them recognise me -

I am walking back to join our family party when my shoes get stuck in mud. At this point (now shoeless?) I am scared as a large alsatian dog – in a near-rerun of a frightening childhood experience – darts out some nearby bushes and leaps and bounds around me. I immediately put up my hands in surrender, hoping the owner is correct in that the dog “just wants my stick”, again a direct callback to the my younger self's incident  -

I am now explaining, with the help of a Google Maps-esque 3D map, how Enn is presently a nun and has converted her old house to create a library -

Snoobab

https://www.livescience.com/

Kay Emm and I are staying at her sister's family house (in America). The (dreamescape) house has a very cheap and flimsy feel about it – the construction seems to be quite piecemeal and the finish throughout is faded magnolia gloss, almost being used as an extra adhesive, on top of the thin timber chipboard that seems to have been employed everywhere-

We are sleeping in the upstairs bed(room) and I awaken and, getting up, I notice a keen-eyed baboon sitting on the small felted flat roof outside our window. The internal/external wall beneath the window seems to be insubstantial/almost opaque and as much as I try to duck out of sight I cannot avoid being caught in the baboon's blue piercing glare. I get a shock as the window switches from a brown, near opaque, surface to clear glass in an instant, revealing two more baboons are sitting on the small cill (several more visible beyond them, descending the surrounding garden walls – they are amassing!)-

The second of the two baboons has a (Planet of the Apes' Koba-like) scar/disfigurement to one eye which gives him an evil, malicious look, his mouth seemingly twisted into a permanent aggressive snarl as a result-

Some of the baboons have invaded the house and we quickly head down the cramped internal staircase as they crawl down the wall in pursuit and dash into the family kitchen where everyone is having breakfast-

I explain the situation to Bee Haitch, my brother-in-law, and he and I venture out into the garden. (I think) Bee has some sort of metal tube for protection and I grab up (from somewhere inside) a sawn-off broom handle and another, longer piece of timber. I rejoin Bee outside where, as the (lead) baboon stalks him, he laments having locked the back door – it might have been to safeguard his (young) family – but we realise we're trapped on the wrong side. I (too easily) flick approaching baboons aside with my hooked(?) timber as Bee thumps on the door with the ball of his fist – we want in now!-

Donbortruson

I am out with my family. We are in (a dreamescape) Glasgow formed of wide, piecemeal tarmacked streets and sturdy red brick constructs – very industrial workers' town. There is no one about and no traffic/parked cars which only adds to the desolate, post-industrial vibe. I am clutching a William Boyd black and red paperback book, a bookmark to the outside. We go into a discount (book) shop and through the back they are just putting out a selection of new hardbacks. Lying on the table I spot Jodi Picoult's new novel – her second, the dreamescape believing her to have written a single, weighty debut. The book has a black dust jacket crammed with complimentary(-ish) quotes printed in a variety of colourful texts and fonts.

Music | Capitol K (bandcamp.com)

Piled near this is a book by/about the underground musician Capitol K. it has a muddy, somewhat confusing cover (and a distinctly off-putting £30 price tag!) with a quote that compares him to Star Trek(?) at the foot-

We go back outside where it is beginning to rain. I stuff my Boyd book up inside my jacket to stop it getting wet. We come to a wide undulating bridge with towering red brick walls to either side. It seems to have four 'lanes' (for traffic) although only one of these is open. I feel safe enough to ignore my Mother's warning to watch for traffic. On the other side of the dividing water lies a large rotting object. As we get closer I realise it is a duplicate of the Statue of Liberty, rusting away-

We now 'dreamjump' to the actual Statue of Liberty where the media is watching Donald Trump (who actually looks more like Boris Johnson) inspect a repair job on a similarly rusted and weathered surface. To the surprise of the assembled journalists Trump/Boris leaps nimbly from his inspection route for an impromptu run about the surface of the statue – how he does not plunge to his death is a mystery! There is also a “lucky escape” for a buxom woman who emerges from a doorway and launches herself off a platform and simply (and fortunately) 'flomps!' onto a surface not too far below. I seem to see this incident replay just as per the news coverage. Initially the (curly haired) woman is totally nude, protecting her 'modesties' with her forearm and hand. In subsequent replays, taken from a different camera angle, she can be heard referring to the television network as a “terrorist organisation” - she is partially clad in a wedding dress with her handsome bosom exposed. At one point I even think she looks pregnant-