8 April 2006

Last night I dreamt the US President was visiting my workplace that day, but I wasn't attending the function, and Pope Benedict XVI turned up unannounced. I had been reading something aloud to a group and before the Pope came into the room I had increasingly become really bad at reading, unable to recognise or properly articulate the words, then he came in - immense in his presence with his deafeningly dark eye sockets - made a magisterial joke about my reading, bridled slightly as I silently got up and, as I bowed, he bowed. Then I went to sit down again and all hell broke loose. People were falling over, prostrating themselves, praying extemporaneously, taking over on the reading, in raptures. It was mental. I felt awkward - and glad that someone else was reading.

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