I’ve picked up the light at the end of the tunnel, where it narrows and then ends at the edge of a deep blue-black ocean. Waves lap up against the edges and I know that if I go through the tiny entrance, I’ll drop into the water below and never be able to surface. So I stop in time. The light is a round ball of shining yellow stars and I hold it in my arms. I walk back through the space and absorb them as I go. When I reach the other side, everything is in me and my hands are free. I pull the sodden wooden gate to close the entrance and walk towards the sun, along a golden path. On each side, there are baskets of gifts for me to choose from. Words, wisdom, peace, dance, love… I pick some and fill my arms with treasures. Then I continue… 

A golden spiral draws me in and I spin in the vortex. I spin faster and faster until I feel out of control. I want it to stop. It doesn’t. So I take a breath and push. And then I’m in a meadow. Ahead of me is a barefoot child, running after a buttercup butterfly. She’s laughing and her floral dress is hitched up on one side. Tiny yellow daisies pop through the long grass and I realize I am free. The spiral has disappeared into the ether…

Archie is meowing at me from the doorway. He doesn’t come for a cuddle but wants to know why I’m still under my duvet. “Hello boy. Come!” He jumps through my window to begin his daily adventure. I get the distinct feeling that he thinks I’m too strange today. And perhaps I am. But dreams are just dreams aren’t they? They disappear as soon as we put our feet on the ground. And the reality kicks in. Housework, zoom meetings, magazines to sort and give away. The rain has already sparked growth in my garden and  I admire the new green shoots popping up all over, despite the summer drought. The three goldfish (one’s been taken by a bird of prey) come up to the surface and plead for flakes. Xena follows me around, knowing that she’ll get the last piece of my eggy toast sooner or later. I take a sip of milky coffee. It’s a cheat and the afternoon mug will be without the creaminess.

A Sunday zoom with our wine club is scheduled for one o’ clock. I am so looking forward to seeing everyone, even though I’ll be partaking of sparkling water. This evening, I’ll be listening to our president and hoping for good news. Not that much will change for me anyway, but I’ll be happy for my fellow South Africans. A call from my daughter would be the cherry on the top of this sunny autumn day and the wood is ready at the fireplace, in case it turns cold later.

Archie’s in the kitchen now. He’s asking for a treat and I break the last egg into a bowl for him. I know he’ll only lick the yellow and leave the white for Xena anyway. He is the most spoilt cat on the planet. And yes it is my fault. I don’t have an excuse either. Perhaps I’m trying to bribe him. But that doesn’t work. He has strict principles and they are not negotiable. If he visits me tonight, it will not be because of the egg.

Voices tell me that the wine club is on and I should join in. In a minute, I shall. Now is not the time for dreaming…