The House Next Door.

I went into a birthday party for a one year old new child I seemed to have. The party was in a hotel that we were staying at, and the mother and other children all had pixelated faces. Just as well.
A large group arrives including son C and his friend L. They were fresh from a long walk to see an extinct volcano. I was a bit jealous of their expedition.
It all makes me want to get some fresh air, so I wander outside and walk up a narrow lane past some houses. Out of the first house comes a man just beaming over with excitement. I watch as he enters the neighbours house with the exclamation that he is entering the best house in the world. I am intrigued and watch as several other men enter the same house with the same sentiments.
What is in that house? A brothel, a men's group, another universe, their childhood or whatever men really want?

Fares please

This was a dream in which I was invited into a brothel by two punk fairy women. They were quite entrancing but I did not accept their offer. Probably because of the presence of my son and his mother, although not sure that I would have anyway.

We had been standing outside my car admiring a double decker bus that was on top of a ruined castle. Pondering how it got there and where it would go to.

The unknown bus ride, symbolising perhaps all those decisions not taken.