A dream of a lost bag

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I was in Camulodunum. I was to see te child. I was with him in his little house. Itwas a huse and not a flat. I was elated to see him and he me. His mother tol me something about my black bag. I had to go out and fetch it. There was some disagreement abot whether I shudlcome back with it or not.

I went to the airport where I had accidenlal ledt m ltitle balck comuter bag. A kindly man had looked ageit. He was a n dol white man in a grey suit – cleannshaven and sshort hiar. Itw as liete outid e heathrow temrianl 4 where the buses are

I was in her hose. Then the door opened nd a tall slebder young man walked in. I was surprised and almost firghtned  so was he. He was her new man. He was not good looking and had a pony tail . I did not mind him at all. He was deent to me.

I am thinking about my travels and next week.

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About Calers

Born Belfast 1971. I read history at Edinburgh. I did a Master's at UCL. I have semi-libertarian right wing opinions. I am married with a daughter and a son. I am allergic to cats. I am the falling hope of the not so stern and somewhat bending Tories. I am a legal beagle rather than and eagle. Big up the Commonwealth of Nations.

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