Friday 29 February 2008

pelican

We were in our living space, preparing to go out, and I was looking out the window. I saw a huge bird, a pelican, circle past the window. I noticed how enormous it was, how wide its wing span. From inside, I could see its underbelly, the vast white and black feathered space of the bird’s wings and torso. I commented to B that a bird outside, flying past the window, looked like a dinosaur of sorts, and we went out onto the balcony to have a better look. The pelican flew down and landed on the balcony floor; its head reached up to my shoulders. The bird edged toward me and clasped my forearm in its beak. The bird’s grip was extraordinarily strong and I was trapped. I slowly walked in a tight circle, trying to gently wriggle my arm from its long beak. Somehow, I could hear the bird’s thoughts: it was considering the best way to attack and kill me. It was thinking of piercing my skull through the temporal lobe. B had gone back inside to find something with which to fend off the bird. As we circled, I took the opportunity to step back inside the glass door and slide it quickly closed, forcing the pelican to let go of my arm and shutting it outside.

Saturday 23 February 2008

riddle quest

I was on a trek with two other people; at times I was with my partner and my brother, but sometimes I was with my ex-partner and my sister. We were journeying together on foot, on a quest of some kind. It was dusk and we were at the edge of a vast forest. With the fading light, creatures of fanciful appearance began to emerge out of the dense foliage. Moose-like animals with soft grey dreadlocked fur ran about us; mammoth cows with dark grey wool-covered backs; and wild gorilla creatures, again with soft grey fur. A young gorilla came close to us and eventually I nursed him, stroking his soft fluffy head. With the threat of total darkness and other, more dangerous animals, waking in the night, we felt an urgency to move on. As we walked, we witnessed a strange sight: the mammoth cow creatures grew restless and affected by the moon. They stampeded madly about, whilst a dog barked uncontrollably, jumping in the air, fighting against his leash, which was tied to a hills hoist clothes line, over and over again, the leash cutting into his throat and mouth with each jump, until his blood splattered our faces and spotted the ground. The two others with whom I walked, became infected with the madness of the night, and began to leap about with the dog, howling at the moon. I urged them to stop and we walked on. We came to a building and intuitively we knew we were to enter the stone walled courtyard and find the right path in the maze therein. We selected, knowing that it was our path, and we climbed the fragile, narrow staircase that led somewhere important to us. As we climbed, one of the others practised her signature over and over and over again, knowing that she would need to write it perfectly at some point on our journey. Funnily though, when I looked at what she was writing, it was my name, written again and again across the page. Being the slowest climber up the rickety stairs, I went first, careful with each step as the climb was fraught with danger. The winding staircase, some flights made only of cardboard or rotten boards leaning against each other, whorled up and up perhaps a hundred levels. Nearing the top, we heard voices saying “Here they come. Are we ready?” When we reached them, there were about seven people dressed in a caterpillar suit; out of every hump of the caterpillar’s back, poked a head of each of the seven people. The person at the head of the caterpillar asked us “What do you want to know?” and we answered “The password.” The caterpillar people repeated “The password” over and over again. They agreed to tell us if we could produce our name written correctly – the moment for my companion to write her signature and my name. Just as she wrote it, the floor underneath the caterpillar gave way and the seven people plummeted down the stairwell cavity, disappearing from view. I was dragged by the pull of gravity toward the hole in the floor and I too fell through. Realising that I would drop to the bottom and die, I reached out and latched onto a crossbeam, swinging my body back onto the stairs. I had to climb up several flights again to rejoin the others. We continued on.

Tuesday 19 February 2008

bull & pea hen

Someone close to me was cruel, screaming at me out of the blue, however I was less surprised than confounded, as it had occurred before. I left and walked along a road. I noticed my friend walking quickly along the other side of the street so that she would not get waylaid by passers-by wanting her attention. I called to her and she crossed the street to walk with me. As we walked, we talked, and I felt the bond of familiarity and understanding. A big bull rushed toward us and fell beside me, crashing heavily to the ground. I was knocked over by the force of his bulk and could see his powerfully muscular back rolling dangerously close to me. My friend helped me to my feet and we began to run, attempting to escape the bull. The bull rose to his feet and charged after us, overtaking us and circling back. He was a somewhat shrunken bull by now, only the size of a young steed. We realised that we were unable to outrun the bull, so I turned to him directly and began to stroke his ears, doing my best to calm him.

Later, I was sitting in a grassy garden in the company of people, but I felt alone. As others talked and ate, I wandered over to a garden bed to look at the flowers. A beautiful pea hen skittered across the grass toward me and then took fright, darting away. I wished the pea hen would trust me and, sure enough, she ran back over and climbed into my lap where she nestled in. She had soft golden feathers over her back, a downy white belly and a patterned belt of bright grass green feathers across her lower back. As she relaxed, she passed a green dropping, the colour and texture of wasabi paste. I did my best to point her tail over the edge of my legs so that she would not soil my clothing. I stroked her back and kept her safe.

Monday 11 February 2008

late

I was doing my best to be on time for a scheduled appointment but everything conspired against me. First, I had an unexpected visit from a dear friend who arrived on a bus with a present for me, hoping for an extended visit. I spent as much time as I could afford (or rather, time I couldn’t afford) talking with her, but then I had to excuse myself as the minutes were slipping away. She was disappointed as I left, telling her that I had to stick to my timetable or nothing would get done and I would let other people down. It was a shame that a visit that should have been delightful felt to me like a pressure. Next, there was a group of people that needed things done for them – food prepared, kitchen utensils unearthed, surfaces cleaned. Finally, I made my getaway, having only ten minutes to spare before the appointment. I needed to go by home to change my outfit to be suitably dressed, but when I walked in my front door, there was another dear friend leading a youth theatre group in the lounge room. He looked happy to see me but I was curt and somehow my voice rang loudly through the room. I stepped around the group, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and then shooed three boys out of my bedroom before shutting the door to get changed. I realised that I was wearing a very strange choice of clothes for me: a short pale skirt, a white top and white ankle socks. I tried to find a pair of matching shoes but every pair that I could find had broken, crumbing heels or one of the pair was missing. I desperately searched the room for comfortable clothing and good shoes, watching the time disappear. I also felt terribly guilty about the gruff way in which I had spoken to my friend; that I had allowed my stress to show. I heard a couple of members of the youth theatre group talking about me, saying that I should speak more kindly to him, and I, privately, agreed. It was now about ten minutes after the time I was due at the appointment and I realised that I didn’t know exactly where it was and how to get there. I wanted to call them to tell them that I was running late, until I understood that they would know I wasn’t coming and that it was too late to attempt to go.

Sunday 10 February 2008

blue dolphin

I was sitting with my brother and sister on a rock, overlooking a river. The rock, rather than being on the bank, seemed to jut up out of the water; we were sitting in the river itself, well away from the shore, looking along, rather than across, the winding water course. I was to the left of them, sitting the furthest out. We were peaceful, watching the movement of the river, the changes in the swirling water, waiting for fish to jump. The sky and water were grey and the day was quiet and still. Dolphin came into view, fins appearing above the water’s surface, swimming toward us. We were pleased to see them arrive, and felt that their presence was somehow fortuitous. I then noticed a man standing in the water quite close to where we were sitting. The water only reached up to his knees and he held a beautiful sky blue dolphin above his head, offering it to the sky. The young dolphin was crying and I called out to him to put the dolphin down. He lowered the dolphin into the water but instead of releasing it, he cut the dolphin’s throat, killing it, reached inside it, and pulled out an organ, white and curiously shaped, which he then ate. I was horrified and watched as the dolphin quickly faded in colour and deflated. The man waded over to where we were sitting and asked if we had some string he could use to tie the dolphin up. I looked inside a metal toolkit wondering what to do and then I woke up.

Saturday 2 February 2008

furniture

I was sitting at a table in a park, late in the afternoon. I watched as a removalist unloaded furniture and stacked it against a brick wall. I could see a lounge suite with patterned cloth covering, a mattress, tables, chairs—general household furniture. I was concerned as night was approaching and the furniture was going to be left outside, exposed to dew and possible rain. I turned to see a young man who I haven’t seen in a long time, sitting opposite me at the table. I asked him why his furniture was being left here and he told me that he had a new home and had organised the removalist but needed another $300 to get the removalist to deliver the furniture to his home; without the money, the removalist would only take his things this far. I wanted to help him and began a search for the money. I looked inside, I made phone calls and checked bank accounts, trying to raise the money so that the job would be complete.

tree

I looked out a window to see the most beautiful tree. A gold and grey trunk with smooth bark, gracefully reaching boughs branching out in a wide circle, and leaves of red, orange and gold, blowing in the gentle wind. I remarked on how well and how quickly the tree had grown, how it had flourished here. I knew that as a sapling it had been brought here from overseas, from North Africa or Southern Europe, and had been planted in rich soil. The tree, now tall and strong, was simply wonderful.

Friday 1 February 2008

spiders

I was underneath a house with two others. They were both active and upright, but I was lying in the dirt on the cement. I could see the foundations of the house and the wooden floor above our heads. One of the others had disappeared behind a wall into a small room and I called her to come out as I could see a large spider crawling on the wall in the room. She didn’t come out so the third person, B, sprayed the spider, killing it. The girl then hit the spider with a shoe, making sure it was dead. B saw another spider, a huntsman, and sprayed it. Immediately, the girl came out of the room and swatted the spider, again ensuring it was dead. They saw a third spider and killed it in the same way. All this time I lay on the floor, amazed at how many spiders lurked under the floor of the house.

whale

I was standing at the edge of a wharf which wrapped around an old wooden building. The floorboards under my feet and the planks of wood that made up the walls of the building were dark grey and damp with sea spray. The ocean was deep under the dock; the building was built on stilts, sitting out over the water. My friend was standing at the opposite end of the wharf, similarly positioned at the edge of the wooden structure. We were each holding a long, flexible stick with a foam casing over the end and we were playing a game where we tapped one another gently with the foam, edging each other toward the sea. We tapped a passing man wearing a safety vest with reflective stripes crisscrossing his chest and knocked him into the water. We all laughed as he climbed back onto the jetty; it was just part of our game. I tapped my friend she dropped off wharf, but just as her feet touched the water I saw an enormous whale passing. I hoped desperately that she would see the whale and be safe from harm; that the weight and speed of such a huge animal travelling through the water beside her would not drag her under. I could not see where she had gone and I ran up the edge of the wharf, peering into the black water. The whale turned and instead of simply passing by, swam as if to swim under the building, directly where she had entered the water, and suddenly there was not one whale but four mammoth dark grey whales swimming about the wharf. I ran up to the end as the first and biggest whale leaped out of the water, its great bulky body emerging above the waves that crashed on the jetty. I was not sure if the whale was angry or if it only appeared that way because of its sheer size and power. I could see the striped grey underbelly of the whale, a giant wall of flesh, before it plunged back down into the sea. I ran inside looking for my friend. She was there, lying face-down on a mattress on the floor, wet and shivering. I looked around for something to cover her with but, seeing nothing, I asked her if she would like me to lie on top of her, to warm and comfort her. She nodded and I woke.