Marcia Wright
I wake up exhausted. I never usually dream, and now my early morning mind is flooded with images of encounters with dead parents, unfulfilled longings, memories of a beloved deceased sister, who stays tantalisingly out of sight, and a difficult person from the past – lounging, relaxed and smiling on my settee. I feel relieved to haul myself back to reality, until I read the news on my phone, which, unsurprisingly, is still dire – with predictions of grave economic downturn, due to the crisis.