Stage

And so I came to the fourth and final dream this morning.

This one was too brief; the alarm went off at the end of it. But I was part of a play, enacting some sort of science fiction show involving time travel and stage magic. I was a hypnotist, and the others my subjects (the Celia Imrie lookalike and the Chloe Bennet lookalike from my bed dream), and the lads from the Parkour dream and even some of the students from my College dream as extras and minor characters. The Peter Serafinowicz lookalike was the policeman who'd been brought in to investigate a murder, which had been committed by ...

... well, you'll have to wait till I've written the play to work out whodunnit.

The only part of the play that I can remember, sadly, is the epilogue. The bit part actors in the background, and the four principals approaching stage front; Mature Woman to my right, Skye-lookalike to my left, and Peter Serafinowicz lookalike behind me, the group in a diamond formation with me stage front and centre.

The poem being recited was one written by Hattie Hall. Mature Woman recited the first line:-

Time Was, is past; thou canst not it recall.

Tall Man behind me recited the second line:-

Time Is, thou hast; employ the portion small.

Skye Lookalike to my left recited the third line, holding my hand:-

Time Future is not, and may never be:

And as the spot narrowed to focus in on me, the rest of the stage going dark, it was my job to recite the final line:-

Time Present is the only time for thee.

The audience applauded; everyone bowed. Curtains.

And that was it for the final dream in this sequence.