The final frontier

Last night I went to Philadelphia and bumped into an old friend who in fact lives in London but was born in the American city.

In the dream it had been years since I had seen him and the close warmth I associate with his friendship was absent, replaced by a suspicious politeness.

We drove across the city to my hotel and I pointed out the place I had stayed two years previously, he seemed surprised and I reminded him that I had sent a postcard that simply said “wish you were here”, he perhaps had never received it.

The sky was blue but it seemed more like autumn than summer, closing more than open.

In reality it has been years since we met.

On waking I cleared up the mess on the desk so that I was free to write this, to see what would appear in word, and I found an empty chocolate bar wrapper.

At one of the places where I work there is an “honesty chocolate box dispenser” and sometimes the planning of the day leaves me hungry, lunch-less and in need of an energy boost.

I like chocolate so it is sometimes difficult to avoid the trap.

The latest selection includes one that offers entry into a “win a trip to space “.

As a kid I ate chocolate too but the best prize was never more than a t-shirt.

I know the chances are slim and that buying them is an invitation to fat but, wow, a trip to space.

As unlikely as seeing my friend again, but worth a shot.