Just a rather nice little trip down memory lane in later life, wherein we discover that the peacock is a magical bird ... perhaps.
Somewhere between waking and sleeping on our journey towards the unfathomable deep, there comes a thin moment where we have one foot in the waking world and the other is in that other world where we relinquish conscious control.
Pausing here and straddled between two planets that drive one another like gears, the attentive traveler will notice a narrow door only wide enough to sidle through.
This is the border of sleep, where imagination and reality are braided together, a chasm in the crust of consciousness, venting the hot pumice of imagery into the irresistible magma of narrative.
Welcome to episode 41 of Stories from the Borders of Sleep, a semi and hopefully increasingly regular podcast of curious tales from bordersofsleep.com featuring original stories by your host Seymour Jacklin.
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The beautiful soundtrack for this week's episode is by pianist Chad Lawson from his album of Chopin variations arranged for piano, violin and cello.
It's available from magnitude.com so if you are ready to journey with me, then I shall begin Horseless Carriage by Seymour Jacklin so far it had worked, Albert going to live with Danny and Sarah.
Young Felix was delighted, of course, and he couldn't get enough of his grandfather's company.
As long as they got out of his way every so often so he could rest, all was well.
Most weekends they had found something to do, the four of them.
The Saturday after his 90th birthday, they were visiting Morley Hall.
The castle and grounds were open to the public, and they expected to find enough to interest each of them at their respective stages of life.
However, Felix had been getting fractious and fed up with the dawdling of the adults over, quote, every blade of grass.
His eyes had lit up, however, when Albert had suggested that there might be dragonflies down by the lake.
Any kind of dragon was going to be worth all the grass gazing in the world.
Then Felix insisted that just his mother came with him to hunt for the flyer dragons.
Danny and Albert were left with a little time to poke around in the grounds and gravitated towards a long garage filled with old cars lined up in chronological order.
The first one they came to was a horseless carriage as gleaming as the day it was made.
The neat white card propped up against a tire assigned it Daimler 1906.