Here is this morning’s dream and it is unlike any other I have had.

The dream starts in the green arboreal where I live in far Western Europe. I am getting ready and those around me are making arrangements for my departure. I am going to see, to find out. I move instantaneous South through the air to the/a city on the equator in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I pass over the once golden walls and into the square in front of the palace precinct. The shiny gold has tarnished and lost lustre. There is water very slowly seeping through the paving and grass grows a little between the stones.

The city is sinking under the weight of corruption and decadence. Soon it will sink further into the sea. The weight of the corruption is vast, and its duration has been long. It has taken a marked turn for the worse in recent years. I can barely recognise the place I once knew well and held in esteem.

I move to a quiet bench in a park. There are a few residual trees there. I sit down and am joined by three impeccably clean mice all of whom are in rude health and vivacious. They chatter with me and climb into my jacket pockets. One in each of the outer lower pockets on my grey flannel suit jacket. The last into the inner pocket on the left-hand side of my coat in the soft dark lining.

We leave the city and arrive in the ocean. I am stood on the ocean. Around us is a pod of whales of many different kinds. I catch the dorsal fin of a large black and white whale who is not an Orca but of a different large species. He dives into the water and pulls me along the surface at great speed. On all sides the pod follows us. We are heading to the city at the Artic Circle. It is the outpost of the civilisation.

We arrive outside the city and the whale drops us off at the dock. It is clear to see that whatever glory has now substantially faded. The mice now pop their heads out of the pockets looking out from therein. The one from my inner pocket moves to the outer handkerchief pocket on the left-hand side to see better. We pass through the stone city gates and note here too there is a problem with rising water.  There is a stench of cloying decay and opulence faded. Here too is corruption.

We go over to a small walled courtyard. In the corner I can see a dead animal. It is a very large rat. I lift its head with a pencil. I can see a small scruffy bedraggled mouse eating the rat’s head. Both I and the mice I am carrying are totally and utterly shocked that one of their kind has fallen so low that it is eating the brains of a rat.

The dream ends.