Dreaming of Charlie
I arrived at
Cambridge University (or what I thought was Cambridge University - in
hindsight it looked suspiciously like the back of the local school) for an aptitude test of some sort, when who do I see except a dirty small dark haired
teenager I know - Charles Woodcock. "Charlie!" I call out: he looks at me, and smiles as I run over. We get chatting and we discuss the test - I haven't had much experience in them, only regular
exams and the one that got me into
King's. I
fumble in my pocket and feel a large keychain: it's the key to the room I stayed in at
Durham University, an enormous green fob with a number on it. I laugh, and say I'll have to post it back. Suddenly, a large plane flies overhead, and I imagine that it's a nuclear bomber (knowing full well it isn't) and lose the dream.
I walk downstairs and ask if any low flying planes have come over... my father shakes his head...