I am observing an enveloping blackness.
I turn my head to one side to see pulsing pink accompanied by the chiming of a glockenspiel and it is warm and comfortable.
I look the other way and out of the blackness comes orangey-yellow and the roar of a snowplough.
I wake up and see my nightlight through the bars of my crib and cry until my parents come to get me.
I can’t explain because it isn’t until I’m older that I will have the words to describe a dream which became a nightmare.
Submitted by Holly Adams ex-pat Canadian living in England. She blogs about genealogy and tweets about family, family trees, technology, local government, and a lot about technology and local government (and sometimes about music). Follow her on Twitter here: @HollyAdamsUK