“Don't look so worried Peter.” my mother said. “I'm sure he's done this hundreds of times before.”
“Well maybe not hundreds....” the doctor said. “...but you've nothing to worry about.” he assured.
'Nothing to worry about'... that's easy for them to say. All I recall from last night's dream was looking at myself in the mirror, clad in feminine underwear and being told that the bra I wore was a 'special' training bra for boys. 'Special' because it's designed in such a way that it cannot be removed by the wearer. It's not the sort of dream that I want to recall, either consciously or subconsciously. I seldom seem to have 'normal' dreams, just weird ones where I'm somehow forced or encouraged to wear girl's clothes and more often than not, I wake in a cold sweat and struggle to get back to sleep.
“Pay attention Peter... the doctor's speaking to you.” my mother said as my mind visibly wondered.
“Sorry.” I gulped. “You were saying?”
“I was saying that after a little dream analysis... we'll hopefully get to the bottom of why you're not sleeping too well.” the doctor reiterated.
“Hopefully.” I gulped.
“Now, if you'll just concentrate on the watch, and try to clear your mind of all other thoughts....”
The watch swung like a pendulum. I followed it as best I could and tried to clear my mind whilst the doctor calmly recited a repetitive string of hypno-clichés; relax, clear your mind, concentrate on the watch, your eyelids are heavy, you're feeling drowsy, empty your mind, follow the watch, blah blah, blah.
“Right well thank you... we won't keep you any longer Doctor.” my mother said. “Come on Peter... let's get you home.”