Now I'll tell you the dream. I was sitting in a big, powerful, cream-coloured
car, and I was driving at high speed through the country. I was coming to a bend
in the road, and in front of me there was a very large lorry.
My foot reached out towards the brake , but it could not find it. I looked
down: there was no brake! Worse: my hands held empt y air. There was no wheel
for them to hold. There were no controls of any kind. Already we were almost
into the back of the lorry.
I shouted in fear. Then I heard a calm voice coming from my left, and I
turned my head. A stranger was sitting there. He was a cheerful man of about
forty. He was wearing an expensive shirt, and on his head he had a red hat. I
couldn't understand what he said; he spoke very quickly in French, and my own
French is not very good. I didn't, in fact, care wha t he said. My eyes were on his
clean, fat hands, which were holding the wheel. This car had its wheel on the left.
He, not I, was in control.
We drove safely round the bend. He turned the wheel slightly to place the
car in the middl e of the road. He was going to pass the lorry. Th e road stretched
straight ahead. It was bright in the sunlight and it was quite empty. Onl y one
other person was in sight; a woman was sitting outside a small house with whit e
walls, and this house was almost exactly ahead of us. She was sitting by a table
putting some flowers in pots. She wanted to sell us some, and waved them at us.
This sight, for some reason, filled me with a terrible fear. Th e flowers made
me think of death and our final resting place.
At this moment we were level with the lorry and ready to pass it, but then the
lorry began to turn away from the side of the road, towards our car. It appeared
that the driver was doing this on purpose. The stranger by my side shouted
loudly and tried to move out of the way. There was a terrible noise from the back
of the car, and then an explosion. Th e earth seemed to turn over, and the noise of
flames burned in my ears. At that point I woke up in fear.
I was very worried by this dream, and could not sleep again. It seemed to have
a message, and I wanted to explain it.
Even if dreams can show us the future, this dream did not make sense. Must I
never pass a lorry on a clear road? The road to Paris is always filled with very large
lorries. Most of them come up from Marseilles, and I always have to pass them
when the road is clear; I can't drive slowly behind them for ever. No, this was not
the meaning of the dream. At its heart was some kind of fear. I had to recognize
my fear, and then I could forget all about it.
I thought about my driving during the last three weeks. I tried to remember
all the lorries and all the small white houses. I thought of all the cars which were
Now I'll tell you the dream. I was sitting in a big, powerful, cream-colouredcar, and I was driving at high speed through the country. I was coming to a bendin the road, and in front of me there was a very large lorry.My foot reached out towards the brake , but it could not find it. I lookeddown: there was no brake! Worse: my hands held empt y air. There was no wheelfor them to hold. There were no controls of any kind. Already we were almostinto the back of the lorry.I shouted in fear. Then I heard a calm voice coming from my left, and Iturned my head. A stranger was sitting there. He was a cheerful man of aboutforty. He was wearing an expensive shirt, and on his head he had a red hat. Icouldn't understand what he said; he spoke very quickly in French, and my ownFrench is not very good. I didn't, in fact, care wha t he said. My eyes were on hisclean, fat hands, which were holding the wheel. This car had its wheel on the left.He, not I, was in control.We drove safely round the bend. He turned the wheel slightly to place thecar in the middl e of the road. He was going to pass the lorry. Th e road stretchedstraight ahead. It was bright in the sunlight and it was quite empty. Onl y oneother person was in sight; a woman was sitting outside a small house with whit ewalls, and this house was almost exactly ahead of us. She was sitting by a tableputting some flowers in pots. She wanted to sell us some, and waved them at us.This sight, for some reason, filled me with a terrible fear. Th e flowers mademe think of death and our final resting place.At this moment we were level with the lorry and ready to pass it, but then thelorry began to turn away from the side of the road, towards our car. It appearedthat the driver was doing this on purpose. The stranger by my side shoutedloudly and tried to move out of the way. There was a terrible noise from the backof the car, and then an explosion. Th e earth seemed to turn over, and the noise offlames burned in my ears. At that point I woke up in fear.I was very worried by this dream, and could not sleep again. It seemed to havea message, and I wanted to explain it.Even if dreams can show us the future, this dream did not make sense. Must Inever pass a lorry on a clear road? The road to Paris is always filled with very largelorries. Most of them come up from Marseilles, and I always have to pass themwhen the road is clear; I can't drive slowly behind them for ever. No, this was notthe meaning of the dream. At its heart was some kind of fear. I had to recognizemy fear, and then I could forget all about it.I thought about my driving during the last three weeks. I tried to rememberall the lorries and all the small white houses. I thought of all the cars which were
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