With Halloween in mind, I thought I'd illustrate a dream.

I usually don't remember what happens in my dreams, with some distinct and disconcerting exceptions, but often I remember the locations, and vividly. Most of the time, they are mixed-up chimera of real places that I know. Sometimes, I have dreams that revisit these same places.

This is The Rugby Club. When I was a kid, my sister and I spent big chunks of our summer holidays at a local youth group, doing arts and crafts, playing sports, games, and generally not being at home and giving our parents some much-needed no-kids time. The location for one of these groups was a building at a sports ground, that we knew as The Rugby Club.

This building appeared in my dream. Although it looked nothing like the real Rugby Club, I knew, with the certainty that you only get in dreams, that it was the same building, despite being the wrong size and shape, having no glass in the upper windows, and having no windows or doors at all on the lower floor. It was the Rugby Club.

It stood in a clearing in the woods, rather than on the edge of the woods as was the case in reality. Around it, scattered across the clearing, were dozens of oil drums, which, again, were conspicuously absent in reality. I have drawn this scene in an overly-spooky way; in the dreams themselves, there was no fog, and the scene itself wasn't particularly scary; just strange, with a distinct sense of oppressive quiet.

I have no memory of what happened here. I only remember this place.