film & friend

I was watching a film in an old cinema, sitting toward the back. The film followed a young woman through the Queen Street Mall. She was performing, interacting with the crowd, on a busy shopping night. She was slim with shoulder length brown hair, and she wore unusual long wool gloves with long fingers that extended well past her own fingers so that the tips waved freely in the wind. Weaving her way through the people, she would target someone and appear behind them, touching them with the dangling fingers of her long gloves. People responded varyingly: some laughed, some ignored her, and others were irritated and embarrassed. Suddenly she saw a group of older businessmen sitting at a round table in the mall. They were talking with one another, drinking coffee and wine, and they were unaware of her presence. Her whole demeanor changed significantly, as though she was guided by a divine force. She walked directly up to one of the men, a man of about sixty with short grey hair, and said, "I choose you. I choose you." As she spoke, my perception of the film changed, my point of view, and I was now inside the girl's body, seeing everything through her eyes and feeling what she felt, though still a witness. The seated men were baffled by her words and the girl began to walk away. A young man emerged out of the thick of the crowd and grabbed the girl from behind. She (we) struggled but he was far too strong. He forced her across the mall and roughly pushed her toward a dark alley. She grabbed at a brick wall, protesting and doing her best to grip onto the wall, but again he overcame her. Now, she was defeated. She knew that this was the end of her and rather than experiencing the horrors ahead, she simply collapsed into herself, submitting. Her spirit was dying. From inside her body, I could feel that someone had just struck the man who held her trapped. I didn't know what was happening, but I could feel the impact of someone beating the man's body and I willed the young woman to stay alive. The young man fell backward and the young woman fell to the ground. I could see the older business man that she had chosen, standing above her - it was he who had beaten the young man and now he was watching over her. The film then skipped forward in time and, though the young woman had died, the older man was now father and guardian of her child.
The film finished and we were back in the cinema. I was weeping, having experienced the film so completely, and my friend was beside me, hugging me. He was surprised that I was so moved and did his best to comfort me. He told me that he didn't think I was the type to cry so much over a film. I couldn't explain that I had seen and felt everything from the young woman's perspective. We left the cinema and my other friend who had been sitting beside me, left without saying goodbye. I thought about following her to see what was wrong, but decided to let it be. We walked through the night streets, arms still around one another, and took a short cut across a vacant block with grass up to my waist. We saw a large peacock perched on the fence and watched as it flew the short distance down into the wild grass.
On the other side, at the mouth of a street, we stood for a moment, contemplating what to do. A young woman appeared and spoke to us, insulting me and very cavalier in attitude. I slapped her lightly across the face with the backs of my fingers and told her that if she was going to speak to people in their forties and fifties, she should speak with respect. My friend let go of me and I waited to see what he would do: if he would back me or if he would be embarrassed. He too slapped the young woman lightly across the face with the backs of his fingers and told her that she should respect us. The girl disappeared and I felt very pleased that my friend was loyal to me.