Why are all my dreams set at my nan's house? (Well, not all of them, but a considerable number.) No matter - we're there. There's some kind of dinner party going on. And everyone is frightened.
Mum and dad are there, and nanna, and the girl Cath that I met at Gossips the other week. And adult friends of my parents that I don't know. We all saw the news. There's something gone wrong with this planet, and the superpowers and scientists think they know how to fix it. But it's dangerous.
They're going to explode something - they wouldn't say where - and with the force of it shift the planet over a few inches. Just a few. But they said everyone, everywhere, will know about it when it happens. "Especially the people in the bit they blow up", says my dad. Nervous laughter. There's a knock on the frosted glass doors into my nan's dining room, and then they open. What the...what on earth are you doing here? Oh well. Come in. You could have put a shirt on, y'know - but then I guess you know my parents would be unimpressed whatever you did.
Oh, but you're not quite...you. I don't think I've met you before. Who are you? Some wandering..."I'm sorry, but I was riding past and I realised what time it was," I think you say, "and the door was open and I thought it might be best to get inside somewhere."
"Riding?" says my dad.
"Yes; I've left my horse just outside. Is that ok?"
We look out of the window. There's a beautiful, beautiful Palomino outside, looking in with vaguely curious eyes. Why isn't my nan throwing you out? I suppose we're all too frightened. I look at you again. No shirt, no shoes, long black loose trousers. Fair enough.
It's getting dark. Sure enough, you've been endearing yourself to everyone by telling tales of your adventures. I'm getting that wide-eyed look that girls are supposed to get when they hear stories like this. My parents are impressed. Cath looks bored.
Suddenly mum looks out of the back windows and says "Look, it's beautiful. Emily, why don't you take my camera and go and take a picture of that?" I look. The sky is black and the moon is full and drenched in orange, and there are stars; she's right, it is beautiful. I'm easily the best photographer in the house. I take the camera, open the door into the conservatory and step out into the back garden, camera poised.
I hold the camera up towards the moon, trying to get one of the stars in the view, and maybe a little of the cloud...but one of the stars is moving; or is it the moon? I wait, hoping it'll settle down. My view through the tiny window becomes more confused; there's too much going on. I take one picture, glance down at the camera to see how it came out. Not bad. The next thing there are voices behind me, but I don't look round because I'm too busy staring upwards. Lit with purple, impossibly huge fragments of stone buildings, scattering sparkling dust, are ripping the sky apart. Really - there are slashes through the sky, purple light spilling through. The stars are running to get out of the way. I'm just staring, and Cath is sitting on the grass crying, and you've run out to get us into safety but you can't help stopping to look.
And then the world starts to shake and you grab hold of my arm and I somehow take hold of Cath and you drag us both inside. My parents have already gone to ground. Everyone's hiding under something. I shout to mum that I think I got a photo. You drag us into my room; Cath curls up under the dressing table, and you shrug and climb onto the bed. "It's hardly going to make much difference whether we're under something or not." I can't argue with that, so I join you.
We fall asleep quickly; I think you might have drugged me.
I wake early in the morning, about half four; Cath is still asleep, huddled up. You're gone. I look outside; you're out there, tanned skin edged in silver, long hair beaded and braided and...
I go out to you and look. From my nan's garden you can see the sea. And the other side of the sea is the moon.
It's enormous. We've clearly moved towards it. And you're shaking your head and muttering "Idiots"; do you think we've moved too far? Is it dangerous? Then my parents arrive, sleepy, scared, and they just stare and stare and stare. My father gets angry. Of course. Didn't the scientists know what they were doing? Maybe they didn't. Wait, wait, you're leaving by the side gate and I have to...I think I have to go with you. You look at your horse and smile. "Only room for one on there, I'm afraid." But...I have to go with you. It's what happens now.
You're afraid not. But you kiss me - of course - and then leave, just like in the story books. As you ride off, you call over your shoulder "Cath will look after you! And maybe I'll come back..." And then you're gone, down the road, on horseback, past the BMWs and the gravel driveways and against the huge, terrifying moon.
And then I wake up.
I've had weirder, but it wasn't half impressive when I was dreaming it.