The White Egg-Bird (night of 5th May 2010)

A bleak landscape. Moorland. Hills. Possibly in the North of England. I am preparing to go on holiday with Mark (possibly Andy?). We are going to New Zealand. I am staying with his family for a day or two beforehand. We go to a supermarket (?) out in the moorland. The landscape surrounding the supermarket is gloomy; mucky bogs, bleak hills etc. The sky is depthless and grey.
A number of us walking through this landscape. A kind of valley, overhanging with vegetation. We discover something. Something that looks like a white egg, but is some kind of bird also. It looks like it is made out of lego. It has some connection to my (?) past. It's own past is somewhat traumatic, though ultimately unknown. It also has an ability to wipe things out of history, so they never existed in time. These things it wipes out of existence have some connection to its own perceptions of its past. It wipes out a road. It fades away and is replaced by grass. It tried to do that with me, but it either does not work, or I am transfigured into some kind of ghost. We push the white egg bird around in a pram. I begin to feel sorry for it while everyone else hates it. It cannot help what it is doing. It looks so helpless.