I very rarely remember my dreams, unless they’re particularly scary. Last night though, or this morning if you want to be technical, I dreamt I was Thomas Cromwell (yes, Tudor statesman Thomas Cromwell) and for some reason I had to hide this dog from Henry VIII. Yeah. I don’t know what my brain was on. It was so weird that I just had to record it for posterity.
Maybe it’s a sign that I should finally finish The Mirror & The Light?
