travelling through the pipes

We were standing in the shower of a bathroom, in a downstairs unit of an old apartment block. Somehow, we were to travel up through the pipes to a unit upstairs. We sent some of our belongings up ahead of us and then we entered the pipes, shot upward and emerged in the shower of the designated apartment. This shower was above an old, pink enamel bath, enclosed by a plastic shower curtain. I hopped out of the bath, thrilled that our journey had succeeded, and waded through the items we had sent before us, which had spilled out of the bath and over the tiled bathroom floor. I opened the bathroom door, about to walk into the living room, but I heard the television and realised that someone was home. I quickly closed the door and ushered B back into the shower. I collected as many of our things as I could and jumped into the bath, closing the shower curtain around us. Through the curtain, I saw a young man enter the room, having heard us trying to get away. He glanced at our remaining things lying on the floor, walked straight over to the bath and grabbed the curtain in his fist, about to wrench it open. We held it closed and, although we could see through it and watch his response, he could not see us. I called out: Please don't open the curtain, I'm simply having a bath. He retreated, but said he would be back. B and I tried to send our things back down through the pipes, desperately trying to recall how we had morphed to fit in ourselves. Through the curtain, I could see the man. He had closed the bathroom door behind him and was again approaching. Suddenly, it worked. The pipes received us, opening up like a tunnel or a black hole. We travelled downward and, soon, B and I were back in our own unit, again standing in the shower, surrounded by our things.

journey to a new home

I was on a bus, travelling through an unfamiliar city, although I understood that I had made this journey many times before and that I had spent great lengths of time on board, even living on the bus. I also knew that this was one of the last times I would travel this route. I gathered my bags and collected my personal belongings, some of which were strewn about, under seats and such. Approaching the stop where I was to alight, I scanned the bus, thinking that I may have to come back to thoroughly search out any remaining belongings. I thanked the bus driver and he leaned forward, pressing a gold coin into my palm. I looked at the coin, noticing how incredible the designs on either side were and how unusual the shape. I leaned forward and pressed my nose and forehead against his for a moment before a grass green butterfly flew between us as I stepped back. I left the bus and walked to where my friend lived in a huge, old white house. There seemed to be quite a lot of people loitering about the grounds and in the rooms. I felt unsure of what to do, being quite new to this place. I looked into great pots of food that were being prepared and thought that this was an area where I could contribute once I had settled in. I followed my friend outside and around the corner of the house to where the outside tap was. The mud under the tap was extremely slippery and we both began to slide down the hill, alongside the house until we shot out into the back yard. The yard was filled with big mud puddles and we continued sliding. I was wearing my long black boots so my feet were quite protected. I concentrated on maintaining my balance and held out an arm for my friend - who was not wearing any shoes - to hang onto. In this way, we slid down the sloping backyard, past a couple who were relaxing on the grass, through deep puddles nearly reaching my knees, and then coming to a halt on the other side of the house.

a need to be free

B and I were travelling. We caught a plane and flew over the ocean and across countries. When we alighted, I was not sure where we were. We caught a bus to our hotel and slept soundly through the night. In the morning, I gazed through the window at the vast field of red, gold and green shrubs, stretched out as far as I could see. B asked me if I knew where we were and I guessed that we might be in Arizona. I was right. We hired a car and travelled around the continent, taking in the sights. In one place, we stopped at a huge building that was still being developed. There was a maze of paths and walls divided by pools of water, around a giant pool of water that adjoined the sea. A crowd had gathered as something was about to happen: an enormous ship sailed with speed into the pool of water and stopped only an inch from the wall that separated the water from the crowd. There, the ship morphed a few times into a sea creature and a whale, before resuming its shape as a ship (shipshape). For some reason, I lay down, fully clothed, in one of the shallow pools of water between the paths and rolled around until I asked B for a hand up.
We then journeyed on, stopping at a man-made beach area surrounded by shops where hundreds of people, both residents and tourists, were shopping and wading. There were about eighty or so women wearing the same bad outfit that they had bought at the shops. I felt embarrassed for them and vowed not to buy off-the-rack clothes that were so obviously cheap and mass-manufactured. I imagined that I could sew all of our clothes and maintain a sense of identity. We wandered on and entered a touristy building built on the side of a canyon. We walked down stairs and down sloped floors, rode down escalators and elevators, until we saw a cafe ahead. B visited the bathroom and I stepped carefully down the now steeply sloping floor toward the cafe where we would find something to eat and drink. I began to take in my surrounds: the floor was carpeted with awful pink carpet and the cafe was decorated in pale blue and pink. The room between the walls became increasingly narrow so that the cafe came to a point. It seemed to be the most southern point in the whole complex, hanging down below the rest of the building, and overhanging the cliff. I began to hyperventilate and started to back away, crawling back up the carpeted floor. B came out of the bathroom and saw what I saw - we had to get out. We felt the weight of the building pressing down on us, felt the precariousness of it, and noticed the ugliness of the place. We left the building as quickly as we could, travelling back up the stairs and escalators, until we were back outside in the open air.