I Dreamed, Again

I dreamt I was in the UK again. That's twice in a less than a week. This is unusual.

This time it was Manchester. I knew it was Manchester because there were trams.

I was walking the streets at night. It had just rained. The air was thick and the roads were still wet. There were lights in the corner, just beyond my vision. Undoubtedly the lights of the clubs and pubs and restaurants of the city I was so familiar with. It could not have been anywhere else.

I approached a group of ladies clearly dressed for a night out in town (another sign I was in Manchester). One was a tall, middle-aged woman with blonde shoulder-lenght hair and an angular face. She was in heels and a flowy pastel coloured dress.

Can you help me? I asked.

She walked away from her girlfriends towards me.

Of course, she smiled.

I can't quite remember but I think I asked for directions to my friend's place or if she knew where he was; what I do remember is a burning sensation of wanting to find that friend and talk to him.

I can't remember what said after that, or if she said anything at all, but the burning sensation remained.