Seriously, I think this is the best dream I’ve ever had, ever. The 100% best dream ever. Here goes.
I was walking by when I noticed my Dad’s car. I saw that he’d left the windows wide open, the engine on, and pretty much all three copies of the keys inside the car.
It gets better.
I thought I’d do something about that, since obviously I don’t want my Dad’s car to be nicked. I drove it away, it didn’t really matter where, and I came across someone’s garden. This garden was enormous, and one corner of it was an orchard filled with the best trees in the world. These were some really good trees. Instead of growing fruit, they grew fruit pies. The best fruit pies ever: these pies had the sweetest, moistest filling, and the pastry was short but not too dry.
I was heartily enjoying a pie from every tree when Judy Dench rolled up in her car. It might even have been her Dad’s car, too, come to think of it. She got out, nodded at me, said, “Alright?” and walked over to a tree and started feasting. For a while there it was just me and Judy, eating the fruit pies. It was a beautiful moment.
Then I found some crazy fruit that wasn’t fruit pies! It was like fruit was doing a satire on itself, but the satire was still delicious and wonderful. Like there were oranges that were oranges in every respect except that they contained raspberry juice instead of orange juice. And I swear I saw an emerald in delicious edible fruit form. Then I woke up for a bit but managed to fall back asleep and the last thing I remember was a truly phenomenal cloud of blackcurrants.
For some reason you could only walk through it if you were naked, which happily I was, and as I did the juice stained most of the United Kingdom.
I’ve only really described about a tenth of how unsurpassably glorious this dream was. I fervently wish that someday I will find this garden, and share it with Judy Dench. It would be the best.