The Debt Collector And The Cuckoo

I dreamed that the debt collector- a foursquare little man in a bowler hat- came marching into the house without knocking. I met him in the hall, chest to chest, and asked him what he wanted. He said, I've come about the problem." And I said, "There is no problem." And there wasn't because it wasn't us he was chasing but the couple whose marriage I was going to conduct. So he came in and sat on top of the ruined wall making notes and I wondered if we ought to offer him a cup of tea. We talked about the couple moving to the East Anglia and someone said, "Don't talk about that; the debt collector will hear." Only I didn't think he could because he was busy doing the hoovering.

On the way to church I found I couldn't remember the couples' names or the marriage service and I didn't much like them anyway, so I caused a distraction by pointing out a sunset through the archway of what I told them was Tonbridge Castle though I knew it wasn't really. Neither was the sunset really a sunset but more like a dark tunnel ribbed in pink with a faint pinkish light at the end. As I was lining up a photograph the castle warders came out with their lanterns to shut the castle down for the night and the picture didn't come out right.

Then the cuckoo sang out- loud as you please- and I was happy because I hadn't heard a cuckoo in years. We saw it flying across the field and little Mary ran after it only it wasn't little Mary it was me and I was singing "The cuckoo she's a pretty bird" and then the choir director got all the children to sing it too.