This one was recurring, over at least 2 years. In December.
I’m sitting in the center of my parents’ bed. My dog is lying next to me. In front of us is a Christmas present, wrapped like they are on TV, so you can take the lid of the box off without tearing the wrapping paper. The wrapping paper has all these pictures of different clock faces, and the hands are moving! I lift the lid, and from the package out pops Burl Ives [long-forgotten, grandfatherly US folk-singer], guitar and all, and he starts singing, and I’m immobilized and afraid.
