I wake, still lingering in my dream world. Such a strange vision, what does it mean ?

I’m in a big room, surrounded by the quiet murmur of  people’s voices. I’m late, must hurry, where on earth are all my things ? I must pack them all up or I’ll miss our meeting. Yet I can’t go any faster, my clothes are all bundled up, the case won’t close. I’ve no idea where the station is. My dream fades.

Now I’m  on high alert. If I don’t pay  my brother Stefan, his blackmail just goes on and on. What have I done to deserve this ?

Thanks to dear Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers and to Anne Higa for the photo.