I have a morning dream that I am a queen, probably Guinevere, and feel desirable for a while, that all the knights are watching me. Then there is a party at which all the gimmicks are in excess and cause damage; the beautiful pool overflows. Suddenly I realise I’m middle-aged and pouchy and have no appeal other than the title of queen. I feel tired and sad about this, even though I sense it is a dream.