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I've had some fantastic dreams lately. One, the other night, involved a Hunger Games scenario in which my friends and I were all in line to answer one question - one simple question - from a GLaDOS-type woman who would kill us, or rather, derez us on sight, if we got it wrong. Moose answered his correctly, and I remember as he walked into the 'safe' room that I felt suddenly so scared that I would get mine wrong, or that Sarah, who was next in line, would get hers wrong and that I would witness the death of my friend. I don't remember the questions we were asked, but I know one earlier simply asked what the name of Mickey's actor was in Doctor Who. I realised upon waking that I don't know that answer. I realised upon waking that had the dream been real, I most certainly would have been killed.

I woke up with my heart racing.

Last night, I had a similarly terrifying dream. In it, we were watching an episode of Doctor Who, but it was also real life, and the things that happened were real as well as part of a television show. It was the logic that makes sense only in dreams, and we were running from a creature that lived on, and therefore ate, human life. Not just people, though, but their creations; their buildings, cars, roads. Anything humanity created, this creature consumed. So we ran, my friends, Matt Smith, David Tennant and I. And I was aware, as my heart pounded in my chest, that this was an anniversary episode of Doctor Who, that David Tennant was making a special guest appearance. But also, that my life was in danger, that it was real, that I had to get away.

We ran past Bristol, past Bath, through barbed wire fencing and into the forests. We found ourselves in the wilderness, in a place no human had touched, and yet still the creature came. And I remember thinking 'this is so unrealistic. Why wouldn't it chomp down on Bristol? or Bath? why focus on us, a few humans, in a city full of them? This episode isn't very good...' and thinking that Moffat isn't that great a writer, after all, and that I didn't want to stick around and watch, because I knew David Tennant 'died' in this episode and it would only break my heart to see it.

Again, I awoke with a start.

These dreams were exhilaratingly. Nerdy and scary, yes, strange, of course, but so much fun to witness. It's been a long time since I had a dream that told a story. I'm glad it's started happening again. I put it down to reading fiction again, which is something I haven't actually properly done since the last Harry Potter book, really - reading Sweet Valley High in the bathtub so doesn't count. Since I decided to give into the hype and check out The Hunger Games books, though, I've devoured them. I read the first in a day, and I'm now halfway through the second.

I used to read all the time. I have a bookcase stacked with books I want to read, because I still buy them whenever I go out. Since I got an iPod though (and now a tablet PC), all the time I once allotted to reading has now been taken over by television shows and browsing the internet. It's a horrible habit, and one I'm glad I might have kicked with the help of this series. Hopefully I can start going through the hundreds of books I've bought and never read. Maybe.