Last night, I dreamt that I was on the run from an unknown and seemingly sinister threat.
Alongside me throughout this was Richard Burton.
He led me through a myriad of yellow chrome lit scenes that appeared to be 1960s London. To escape, he told me of a place we could hide out where he knew we’d be protected. This turned out to be a busy, smoke-filled working men’s club. He sat us down, with ale in our hands, in a darkened corner and began to tell a story, with dozens huddled around us, listening intently.
I woke and knew I had to find something, some interview or recounted episode of his life.
I stumbled upon something which, when edited, seemed to fit. I hope it works?