There's a space in my day which is full of possibilities. It comes in the minutes between sleeping and properly waking, when my dreams fill the room and distort my real life like fairground mirrors.
Einstein is teaching me to play the penny whistle on the top of a scaffold. I'm baking not-gingerbread cookies for a not-Christmas fair which is really a car boot sale that will make my fortune. A good friend is secretly getting married in a wooden house in Bavaria.
These all seem completely plausible versions of reality as I lie, half aware that they are fading into nothing. But they leave an open space where they once were, of dreams as yet undreamt and unimagined possibilities that somehow now seem entirely possible too.
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