KISS

I rarely get a quality night’s sleep these days. Getting off to sleep is no problem, and I can sleep quite deeply for an hour or so before I get woken by my bladder. I guess at 75 years of age that’s just par for the course really. I generally get back off to sleep again fairly quickly though; at least until the next time I need to go.

I don’t often remember dreams and those I do remember I would, more often than not, rather leave behind. Just occasionally though, I’ll have a dream that I not only remember but rather wish I could stay within. Last night was one of those dreams.

In it, I appeared to be exploring a large stretch of parkland or open countryside. I came across a stone built ruin of some sort, and in mooching around it I came across a large Wasp’s nest. Well, the responsible adult in me decided I’d better find someone to report it to. There followed a rather fraught search for the right person, in which I kept finding other Wasp’s nests enroute. I’d clearly got my eye in.

I eventually found a woman who seemed to be the manager of this parkland and we both set off back to the original nest. Now we get to the mysterious part of the dream, the former part being quite ordinary obviously. At some point in the journey we were joined by another woman, and the two of them chatted away as they clearly seemed to know each other.

I was walking a little ahead of them when I was suddenly called to a halt by the second woman, and as I turned around I realised why. I had inadvertently walked into a crop of hay, flattening several metres of it. I seemed to then fall flat on my back and the woman who had checked my progress walked over to me, knelt beside me and … kissed me.

At that moment I felt nothing but warmth and comfort. This point of the dream was vivid, and I remember every detail of that kiss. Her lips were very slightly parted and with the merest tip of her tongue visible, she very lightly brushed them against mine, and that was it.

No full on snog, no erotic or sexual content, just one light kiss. But oh, it spoke volumes in that dream. Like a mother kissing her baby it was full of warmth, love, joy and simple kindness. The gentlest of caresses.

Of course, at that point I woke up. But I fought it. I tried so hard to get back to it, turning the last part over and over in my head in an attempt to retain the sensations I felt.

Sadly though, these things don’t last. Reality breaks in and proceeds to vandalise and trash the space. Splashing obscene graffiti over the walls. Before long the feelings fade and I’m left with just the raw data of memory.