Dreams queen

I was in an untidy room full of books and papers but obviously a grand room with vintage furniture. An elderly lady came in and paid little attention to me though she acknowledged me and asked me my name which she addressed me by. I recognised her, she was the queen, no crown just an ordinary old lady and I spoke to her as Elisabeth and we got along, She then summoned tea and served it to me and we got along despite me being a republican. That is all I dreamed.

I dreamed about Queen Elizabeth II giving me life advice and spraying me with her Dior perfume

I was a queen, everything around me felt so real, the smells and sounds and the cold wind. I lived there for what felt like hours. But it wasn't. But the last thing I remember was the choking on my own blood

Me and H were on our way to NewYork on the bus for a choir trip and we stopped at Dairy Queen and my dad and grandpa got me from Dairy Queen and so we went to this place and there was a bunch of train tracks surrounded by water. We were sliding down the train tracks and then I ended up in the ocean and then we had to swim fast back to Dairy Queen so I could get on the bus and go to NewYork.

I was going on a journey; to where I don’t know, and found myself at the airport. Just before I presented myself to the check-in desk I felt an annoying lump on the bridge my nose; slightly to the left hand side... like a plook. So I trudged off to the nearest mirror for a look, and discovered the shocking truth. This was no pimple, zit, spot or suppuration of pus that had grown like a mountain to the surface of my skin. Nor was this a teenage bout of acne waiting to be compressed between my pinched thumb and forefinger, exuding a lava that resembled the contents of a squeezy bottle of mustard. But what was it? I had to look closer..... A miniature flower had taken root and bloomed through the surface of my earthly pore. Like a daisy gently bristling in a grassy meddow, the pollen scented aroma of summer surrounded by silken petals bloomed in colour and vibrancy. I began to pick off the petals one by one only to find hidden under each an angry wasp buzzing with rage and torment, including the Queen who sat under the petal at the top of the flower pointing north at 12 o’clock. For fear of being stung I couldn’t touch anymore and had to leave any future ‘weeding’ until after my flight. As my flight landed I found myself in Windsor and a new job. I was working for another Queen, this time Elisabeth I of Scotland and II of England. My job was to help with the smooth running of the upcoming Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan. The job didn’t last and I soon found myself unemployed. Handing back in my Royal page-boy type uniform, consisting of plus fours, white tights, buckled shoes and a thrilly laced shirt, I returned to Mexico. Dejected, starving and struggling for cash I decided, upon advice from a friend, to become self-employed and was soon earning a pittance gift wrapping souvenirs purchased by tourists for their loved ones at home. It wasn’t enough though and my meagre earnings barely stretched to buying a plate of taco soup, rice and beans. But In a weird twist of fate my dream morphed into a strange success story – like the American dream I tweaked my business and moved it lock, stock and two smoking barrels to a gay nightclub. I was now offering a naked gift wrapping service and was rolling in the money.