This morning I dreamed that Neal Ascherson and I were hunting a childhood neighbour of mine through some woods with submachineguns; I got bored and confident left Neal to kill him. The bursts of fire moved further off into the darkness and suddenly they stopped and I realised that I had got Neal killed. I had two thoughts: ‘Oh, shit! what am I going to tell Isabel?’ and that now I would have to go out into the woods myself. Then I woke up.

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