I dreamt my husband and I were invited to an Indian couple's house for a meal. The house was in a cul-de-sac up a lot of steps.
We sat at their table waiting for food to be served when the woman explained that her husband had turned into his father and the three children were about to receive discipline. Tradition did not allow strangers to be present so we were asked to finish our meals in the downstairs loo.
Afterwards, we sat in the living room until the man came in and told us he had to drive us home. When we got in the car he asked us if we had our own seatbelts with us. He was very angry that we didn't but let us use the ones in the car.
His driving was terrifying. He drove straight over the middle of roundabouts, on pavements and up and down stairs. He eventually dropped us off back at the same house we'd been at but in a different year.
We were back in the same living room but the house was dark and empty.
We had a discussion about which of us should now drive home, as we had both been drinking. We decided I'd had less guilty drinks, which were also paler, so therefore I should drive; but then we realised the car was blue, so in the end, he had to.
For some reason I was watching him drive on television. He was being chased by clocks and he was low on fuel. It was tense as to whether he'd get there before running out. In the end he was just a few metres short and a load of mechanics came out to shout at him.
Luckily we realised we could walk home by jumping on the yolks of giant fried eggs that had grown under the snow.
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