I'm in a big city. (Probably American, and inspired by all the police series I actually don't watch, but that are inevitably advertised in between the football matches I do see...) It's late, I hear sirens, and I'm thinking of the number of recent murders in the city. Evidently I'm some kind of detective. I turn a corner, and there he is - the serial killer we've been hunting for weeks! A woman in his arms still, dead no more than a minute. Strangled by him. Then he turns to look at me, slowly. It's my father! He smiles at me and says "this was no. 40. Happy 40th, my dear!"
- I wake up with a pounding heart, and for 10 minutes I can't think straight. My father, though no saint, has always been nice to me and a good friend. And now, a raving lunatic... I see my whole life go to pieces! Eventually I realise it was just a dream.
Gee, who'd have thought turning 40 would be that scary, huh?