So it turns out that having riots break out all over London isn't that conducive to a good night's sleep. It wasn't the noise of helicopters and sirens all night but the fact that they don't exactly make you relax and let go, that meant I didn't get to sleep until sometime after 5:30am. And once I did fall asleep perhaps it's no surprise I ended up with violent dreams that included people feeling trapped. This is a rather icky one, just warning you. I dreamt that I and my sister - and possibly a number of other, unseen people - had moved into a new house. But it was laid out exactly like the flat in Athens where I grew up. My sister asked me to take a look at her bedroom door because there was a problem with the lock: The problem being that there was no lock on the inside but there was a large bolt on the outside, so she could be locked in by someone else, and already had been once.
Then she forgot about this and asked me to deal with another problem: We seemed to have a large chicken in the house and although this had been fine, it had started getting loud and aggressive and she wanted me to kill it so we could eat it. Someone had already tied down its legs and wings but it was still struggling and making a noise as I took it into the kitchen, pulled a plate out of the rack and tried to cut its head off. I tried to reach for the biggest knife I could find so as to chop its head off in one go, but kept ending up with smaller, blunter knives and not being able to do the job properly. At some point the bird had turned into a parrot, possibly so it could talk back to me angrily about how I wasn't doing it right. The plate I'd laid it on had now also turned very hot, so the parrot's head was melting and cooking, all the while it was still alive and talking. Finally I got the head off; some of the carcass had cooked. I cut that off and looked at the remaining meat, thinking it wasn't much but it would do for one meal.