When worlds collide
[Dream target date - 10 February 1980]

On Friday, Pete Bench said that he wanted us to produce a figurative drawing of an item of clothing. So I chose a flight-hat that one of my brothers had found on a nearby rubbish tip. It was entirely appropriate, since I wore a red spacesuit for most of last week.

I set up an easel and put on some music - 'In the City' by The Jam. It was whilst searching for a pencil that I discovered a crumpled note that had been stuffed into my jacket pocket.The note contained an unexpected confession from Jane, my old girlfriend, in which she asked me to forgive her mood swings and 'warned off' my friend Chris, who had tried to reconcile our relationship. I wasn't sure how long the note had been there or when I was supposed to find it? I read it over a number of times before consigning it to history and returning to my easel. The drawing exercise would at least take my mind off the matter.

Later that evening, in an introspective mood, I spent some time out in the back garden star-gazing. The activity fuelled my subconscious and after lapsing into a deep sleep I experienced a recurring dream where the setting sun was accompanied by a larger, orange disk in the sky.

Closer inspection revealed bands of colour and a giant red spot swirling violently across its surface. The planet Jupiter had somehow broken free of its orbit and was on a collision course with the Earth. As the dream unfolded, I realised that some of the scenes were culled directly from the 1950's science fiction movie 'When Worlds Collide'.

The apocalyptic theme was combined somewhat incongruously with village life: Teenagers riding bicycles around the illuminated doorway of the fish and chip shop on Park Avenue. My Grandmother, shopping bag draped over her arm, climbing aboard Woods green-grocery van to buy fruit and veg. In the background, the pit 'blower' signalled the start of an evening shift as house-martins dive-bombed red bricked terraces.

Vanilla delta

It was about seven o'clock in the evening and still light outside. Two of my young cousins were searching the kitchen for ice cream. Like everyone else in the village, Theresa and Duncan appeared to be oblivious to the impending disaster. A narrow window in a cramped corner of the kitchen provided an ideal vantage point. It was possible to see right over the terraced houses on the next street and out into open plane of the yellow cornfields Something was moving across the fields. Changing direction in abrupt, staccato movements, a number of airborne 'war-machines' began raking the distant fields with their deathrays. This was classic science fiction; 'When Worlds Collide' 'Robinson Crusoe on Mars' and 'War of the Worlds' all roled into one.

My heart was in my mouth as one of the crafts soared up over the house and out of view, it was beating so fast I thought my chest would burst. There was a flash of light and the subsequent explosion shook the house violently, causing tons of glass and masonry to rain over my cousins, sealing them in a kitchen cupboard where they had taken shelter. I left them to their fate and scrambled towards the front door.

The war machine had slipped back over Harlow Street and an the sky Jupiter was almost totally obscured by a billowing cloud of purple smoke.

Apples and pears

I dashed across the street to Woods' grocery van. Athough the blue bodywork of the converted coach was beginning to blister, busy shoppers were acting as if nothing was happening. I hit the deck as a nearby explosion rocked the suspension of the vehicle. 'It's like the blitz all over again' said one of the old women reassuringly as I rolled around the floor with half-a-dozen cooking apples. It was the apples that gave the bus its distinctive, fresh odour.

An assistant tossed a bunch of grapes into a brown paper bag and spun it over a couple of times to seal the top. "We'll be alright duck" she said casually, "we've seen it all before haven't we Phyl". My Grandmother nodded "Ah, burrat least you've got some bananas un proper eggs this time'. I wiped a spot of blood from my nose with my sleeve and got to my feet. The women were still cackling and reminiscing about wartime food rationing as I jumped down the steps at the back of the bus. "They're all mad" I said to myself.

Spanner's alsatian

Spanner's Alsatian dog was howling pityfully as houses burned all around. It always sounded like that when it was chained up in the garden. Behind me was the looming spectre of Jupiter and to the left and right of me burning buildings. There was only one place left to go where I might find sanctuary and that was the forest or 'foggies' as it was known locally. There were several hiding places in the forest; dens and tunnels left over from our childhood gang, the 108 club. But, I couldn't reach the forest, because the dream started to loop, repeating the kitchen sequence over and over until I finally woke up to the sound of Spanner's dog, howling outside!