I dream a dream that will stay with me throughout my life.
My brother is walking down East Finchley High Street.
A pale man with black hair stops him just close to the 263 bus stop opposite the library and asks him for a light (both my parents smoked).
Or, my brother asks him for a light, it’s not clear.
Either way, there’s a matchbox and the man is striking a match, and my brother is holding the matchbox, and an evil mechanism comes out of the matchbox and grabs my brother’s forearm, locking on and holding tight, and taking him away from me forever.
I wake up distraught.
I weep for hours about the dream until mummy comforts me sufficiently so I forget it.