A great aunt- or someone of that sort- had died and I was sorting through her effects. A stack of photographs in colour of her dancing in a chorus line- all taken from the wings of the theatre and all very much alike- were for the bin but a series in black and white from the 40s and 50s- more documentary than pornographic- dealing with her career as a prostitute- were definitely for keeping. I remember thinking- at some level acknowledging that I was dreaming- how very much like "real photographs" they were- with their high contrast and recognisable faces. At this point the great-aunt- back from the dead- interjected some remarks that seemed cogent at the time but which I have now forgotten. There was also a piano; the Bishop of Leicester said he would take it off my hands but only if I first "had its label restored".