Poisson rouge

Nico left at 5 O'clock for his demented, disorganised trip via car, plane and train to Brittany.

I fell back asleep and dreamt that he hadn't left in time.  I dreamt that my contact lenses were like plastic bags that I couldn't get into my eyes, that I walked down long country roads trying to find my classroom, that my hair was white because I'd covered it in Nivea cream.  

The alarm didn't go off.  My dream had bored me so much that I woke myself out of it and had 15 minutes to get to school. 

I threw food at the dog and the too-many cats, looked ineffectually for the car keys and took the bike, tearing my trouser leg in the chain and doing myself damage with an unstable saddle.

Today was determined not to be normal and when I got home and drew breath, leaning over the canal balustrade, there was a gold fish.