We take the corner so fast that my shoulder bumps against the door. I’m pinned back in my seat as Dad accelerates.
‘Where are we going?’ I say. ‘The shops are the other way. What about the rolls for lunch?’
‘Making... a slight... change of plans,’ mutters Dad between gear changes.
Oh no. Not again. I should have stayed at home. We’re swerving in and out of traffic like they do in the movies; I just grip the door handle and wait to see what happens next.
It’s not going to be boring, at least I know that much.
I’ve always been fascinated with sleep – it’s such a vital aspect of life but also so mysterious, a completely altered consciousness in all animals, every time they sleep. I like the idea that we can see things through the day and not consciously register what they might mean – so your subconscious ‘plays out’ ideas as you sleep. The idea of astral projection is so much fun I couldn’t resist writing about that, but there is no scientific evidence that it is possible.