I had a dream last night. It’s reasonably rare that I remember them, so I thought I’d document this one:
I had gone over to Elizabeth Street, something to do with my shoes, perhaps getting them fixed? It didn’t happen, but I was heading back to work on Exhibition Street. I saw a tram coming, only it wasn’t a tram, it was a bus that had a tram’s route number on it (109), but it was on the wrong street. I caught it anyway. I got on. Although I had a ticket, I didn’t show it to the driver, who didn’t seem to be interested.
After a block or two, the bus started to swerve. Suddenly it swerved right over to the right, through a fence and into a park (that doesn’t really exist). The bus stopped. The handful of other people on the bus and I seemed to be okay, though surprised. The bus turned around and headed back for the road, but went through another fence.
Then the bus was swerving around again. It hit a tram stop. I saw a person in front of the bus, but then they disappeared (I presumed hit by it). I did the hero bit and went up to the front of the bus. The driver seemed to have collapsed. I pulled him out of the seat – he didn’t resist, and I put my foot on the brake, and the bus stopped.
Bizarre dream, eh? I wonder what on earth it means!