Some people find dreams boring. Some find them interesting. I find them very interesting.
I have many recurring dreams, but one which intrigues me especially is the dream of the fifth mall.
When I was growing up, Ballymun shopping centre was the busy centre of the suburb. Four rows of shops radiated, in a cruciform shape, from a central plaza. They were called the North Mall, East Mall, West Mall, and South Mall.
I have recurring dreams of another mall, one which is less busy and which is very often nearly deserted. Sometimes there are no shops in it, only store-houses for the other shops. Usually it is deserted. Sometimes there is a pub on it. Its existence always seems strangely exotic and exciting. In these dreams, I am always a child.
What on earth could this mean?
(The shopping centre is still there, but now it only contains one pharmacist and one betting shop. The rest of its outlets are disused.)