house & money truck

I visit a young woman at her home on the Brisbane River where she lives with her father. The house is beautiful: architecturally designed, open-planned, and with lots of rich toffee coloured wooden beams and features. I want to move in so I ask her if she thinks they will ever leave. She says that they will never leave as they love it here and she shows me more; I suddenly understand why. She opens the wide wooden doors on the river side of the house and we are face-to-face with the most serene and private beachscape. It so happens that the river bends right where their house is built, so they have a secluded beach accessible only from their house. White sand and driftwood; waves lapping almost to their balcony. I meet her father. He is a doctor who works in Sydney; he commutes there once a week. They want to show me his artwork so we climb the internal stairs that appear out of nowhere. The stairs wind up and up inside the house. Pausing on a landing near the top, the woman points out her artwork hanging on the wall: two paintings she completed for her final submission at high school. They are large and striking. She tells me that people either love or hate them. I do not feel strongly about them but admire her work none-the-less. We keep climbing until we reach the father’s room. He unpacks tiny artworks, intricate masterpieces that he has created.

Next, I am I a large hall. There are men and women there, mostly paired up, waiting to dance. We waltz around the room, sometimes swapping partners. B is coming and I wonder which partner she will choose. I notice a tall man like a bear and think that he might be suitable. When she arrives, she chooses a slender man, effeminate and graceful.

I leave the hall and walk past the doctor who is sitting on a bench. I place a pizza box in a rubbish bin behind him, hoping he won’t notice. I get the feeling that he is waiting for me.

I walk around the corner and intend to cross a wide city street. As I approach, I see a huge armored truck parked on a strange angle, with a long chute extended from the belly of the truck, effectively blocking the road. There are cameras trained on the location should anyone attempt to tamper with the operation. I realise that it would be dangerous to walk around it, so I simply wait by the side of the road for the truck to move. I can see a uniformed man walking along the chute, carrying a big metal box. He smiles at me and I know that he is carrying a vast sum of money, stashed inside the box.