I had a dream that me and my twin sister were in a car crash. We both died, but we carried on being alive inside cuddly toys. We were for sale in a toy shop and a little boy came in with his mum and she told him he could pick any two toys, and even though me and my sister were far apart from each other on the shelves, we were the two he chose.
He carried us home, one under each arm, put us in his bedroom and when he went downstairs and closed the door behind him it was like when we had to share a bedroom at Christmas because Grandma had come to stay. We would stay up late talking, and on Christmas Eve, even though we were tired and wanted to sleep, we’d stay up until midnight, waiting for the moment Christmas arrived. And so in the little boy’s room me and my sister just hung out. She said ‘remember when we were little and had baths together and you used to drink the bathwater.’ She said ‘I bet all our primary school teachers are dead by now’ and I thought about Mrs Cooper and Mr Thompson and realised she was probably right. We talked about people we worked with when we both had summer jobs at Safeway. We talked about how we watched every episode of Big Brother 2 and were pleased when Kate Lawler won. She reminded me she always beat me at paper, scissors, stone. I reminded her I was faster than her at front crawl.
Neither of us mentioned that we were both dead now and had become cuddly toys, but it didn’t really matter, because we were together, just me and my sister, and that’s the way we liked it best. The little boy came back into his room and gave us a cuddle. I was Eeyore. Karen was a dog called Patch.