Last night I had a strange version of my reoccuring bridge dream perhaps worth mentioning maybe for a laugh. For some reason, there were metal bicycle bridges across an unknown body of water. I had this feeling that there was one I shouldn’t use, but I couldn’t pinpoint which one. I started across only to realise that the one I chose was in disrepair, causing me to fall a very short distance into water. Coming close behind me was none other than Count Alois Lexa von Ährenthal, ditching his usual regalia-adorned uniform for a modern looking sweater and riding a blue vintage Schwinn cruiser bicycle. We had to together find a way to get back to land, hopefully before anyone saw our mistake.
Then, task uncompleted, I woke up.
Could this be the result of studying too much World War One history? Am I more worried than I thought about next summer’s three-river, white-water rafting tour in Bosnia? (I can’t swim. I am learning this summer.) Maybe I am just working too much and sleeping too little.
Have you ever had strange dreams about an historical personage or event?