
A20
When a fever breaks, my dreams take on a repetitive hue. So, even when I get up for a rest break, I immediately returned to the scene of the crime (which in this case is, “What happened to Santa Claus”.)
The police were involved, too, since a similar thing had happened the Christmas before. The road they were tracking was the A20. I was allowed to see a map of the area. Then, another A road showed up, this time the A80 in Scotland. Hmm. Sounds like my ancestry heritage.
Eventually, Santa was found safe from harm, hiding out in a farm house. He’d just taken a break from his nightly duties and lost track of time. By morning he’d returned to his sleigh and flew back to the North Pole.
Getting a book about lucid dreaming may have been the trigger. My cold breaking may have been the real reason for the escapade. Hopefully, that’s the end of the story.
It’s quite telling that when I tried to write Santa in the main paragraph, it came out as “Sanata”.
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