Fencing in the Sand

Dream Journal 19-04-16

Normally when I have really vivid and exciting dreams like this one they end with my death, thankfully I was woken up by my alarm just before that could happen. Read on, and enjoy.

“Alright everybody, pile in,” I say while closing my car door and starting the engine of my 2006 model Toyota Yaris. I let the engine hum for a few minutes before we set off to the beach, running through the list of all our equipment just in case we forgot anything. Nothing. All set.

The drive was, at best, pleasant. Nothing, in particular, stood out, apart from the eery lack of people on the road. The journey was quiet and rather dull, it was early. We fencers normally trained in the transition from day to night when ur bodies were at their peak. We were an odd bunch who never really fitted into regular society anyway, which is why our club’s motto works so well. “Fencing – Make new friends then stab them.”

It took a while to set up all of the equipment, we had to compact the sand to accommodate a wooden pieste. I had three people with me, my brother, a close friend and the cuddly guy who scares me. We were the only ones that knew the plans for today and the real purpose of today’s training. We had received several boxes from an organisation known as DARBA with a request to examine ‘these’ in the most adverse conditions to our sport. No doubt that the beach with its course, slippery sand that made simple running difficult, the effects it would have on a grizzled and half asleep fencer in the scorching sun was bound to amuse any passerby that witnessed our bizarre events unravelling.

I was pleased with our club, uncertain and most definitely scared of how and why DARBA identified us as candidates for their programme. As the cuddly but scary guy headed over to the pieste, I cracked open the boxes and donned the custom-made exoskeleton and grinned when I thought about what would happen next.


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