last night

my small, circumscribed
world with its central notion,
— contradicted brutally —
as it all comes flooding back

In my dream I was a charity shop volunteer, just like back in the nineties when I met my partner Liz. I had no cash till, but there were people coming up to me expecting me to take cash for their purchases. I was deeply uncomfortable, partly for the lack of a till, but mainly because these people were laughing in a suggestive way — making sly, knowing jokes about ‘last night’ — and I felt utterly convinced they must be confusing me with someone else. I knew that if I just made the effort, I could remember exactly where I was last night, and prove my innocence. I woke as I made that effort — and woke into the shameful, shattering knowledge that yesterday (in reality) I viewed online pornography.


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