The Provost’s Dream Diary

Michael Arthur dressed as a Victorian miser

January 5th: dreamt that a swiss old cruel man with tiny cloth eyes sold me a whistle I played the whistle and hannah sketchley became unhappy 6/10

January 7th: dreamt that I was back in leeds northern hands grasping at me northern fingers pulling at my shirtsleeves northern fingernails digging into my delicate skin 2/10

January 11th: dreamt of a churning pit of torn flesh and gnashing teeth 10/10

January 16th: dreamt that in the dark of the night I was tossing and turning the nightmare I had was bad as can be it scared me out of my wits a corpse falling to bits then I opened my eyes and the nightmare was me 8/10

January 25th: dreamt that I had a cock made out of money but I tore it when tugging off 5/10

January 29th: dreamt of that swedish moustache wanker foiling my schemes again darn kids make me so mad 0/10

February 4th: dreamt I had a and bacon baguette brie and from the george farha cafe and the man who toasted it for me looked a bit like owen jones 3/10

February 8th: dreamt of flesh and teeth again 9/10 took away a point because no morning wood this time

Michael Arthur

This article originally appeared in CG 47.