Timber Supplies Five

My dreams always take me on wild journeys. While some might deem them nightmares, I find them genuinely fascinating. Beyond their enigmatic glimpses into my subconscious, their narratives unfold with a gripping intensity akin to a television series. The distinction lies in its mental stage, an arena under my dominion. Unlike most, who often struggle to recollect their dreams, I am blessed with a vivid memory of each minute detail.


The previous night introduced an unprecedented dream, an anomaly within my nocturnal tapestry. Curiously, I found myself within a hardware store. Bentleigh appeared to be the chosen locale, a perplexing choice given my absence from the actual vicinity. Yet, my dream self traversed the store’s aisles, absorbing the eclectic array of products on display. Amid the assortment of tools, where familiar objects like hammers beckoned recognition, there existed enigmatic devices like a pair of asymmetrical silver metal bars, their form tinged with an elusive menace. Such concerns, however, failed to encroach upon my dream self’s equanimity. His focus remained steadfast on the two ethereal fairies that hovered above the shelves, engaged in rapid discourse—a symphony of words too high-pitched for disentanglement. Were I to articulate their speech, it resembled an intermingling of English and the dulcet ring of a pristine chime, a symphony of pleasant resonance. Both fairies spanned the breadth of my palm, with one bearing a striking resemblance to a renowned fairy, her name momentarily eluding my grasp. You surely recall her—a blonde-maned figure clad in verdant attire.

Intriguingly, the fairies remained oblivious to my presence. The male fairy gestured toward a placard proclaiming the establishment to be the finest electrical supplies store Cheltenham had birthed. The emerald-clad fairy nodded in concurrence, her dainty hand tracing through the air. Suddenly, the pile of timber stationed adjacent to me slipped from its moorings. It ascended towards the ceiling, converging upon the fairies’ ethereal domain before undergoing a wondrous transformation. Piece by piece, the timber dwindled in dimensions, condensing until the entire assemblage, a hundred-strong, nestled comfortably within my wife’s purse. A gasp of astonishment was poised upon my lips, but the realm of dreams subdued it.