house of horror

I travelled to Brisbane for a friend's art exhibition in a house on James Street in Fortitude Valley. I arrived alone and on dusk, and I seemed to be the first person there. The door was ajar, but not open, and the lights were dim. I peered through the window and I was frightened. There, next to my friend's artwork, I saw old photographs of hags covering the walls of the room: old and ugly witches with cruel eyes, hooked noses and twisted mouths. The photographs seemed to be from various times throughout history - even well before the camera was invented. I gathered this was a record of the owner of the house's ancestry, and I was repelled. I did not want to go in, but I feared disappointing my friend. She arrived and went happily into the house, which was now somewhat lit up and open to the invited guests. A few people arrived and I was more or less ushered in with them. I barely saw my friend's artwork, I was so horrified by the photos lining the walls. Photo after photo of evil-looking and grotesque people. I went into the second room - a dining room - where we were to have supper and a lecture on art. As I was supposed to do, I sat at a mammoth dark-wood, highly polished table in the centre of the room. The walls were painted a lifeless grey and heavy teal curtains were closed against the world outside., concealing the room within. A tall man in a black suit dusted the curtains and polished silver ornaments. He kept his face turned away, but I knew he was the owner of the house and would wear the same dreadful countenance of his family line. I felt this was some kind of trap; a scene of a crime about to be committed. I woke up.

swimming, eel and chase

We swam in a giant rock pool by the sea. The water was clear, turquoise and cold. It was like magic, diving like dolphin - so liberating. I swam with my family, my partner and my dog. We moved like fish in a school. After a time, someone announced they were going to reveal the giant eel in the pool. I was surprised as I hadn't seen an eel in the water, but unalarmed. We gathered around and a man tapped a rock, luring the eel to the surface. Sure enough, it came, but, at first, it seemed only to be the size of a tree snake. As we watched, it slowly revealed its full size: it was enormous; a giant, indeed. It's girth was perhaps a foot or more wide and, how long it was, I do not know, for it swam beneath the water - elusive, in and out of sight. At a guess, it may have been twenty metres or more. It was regally patterned, deep gold and black. I swore not to swim again and a man, upon hearing me, questioned why, when the water was so beautiful. I told him though the eel would not likely harm us, I couldn't risk it. 'I love my dog too much to see anything happen to her', I said. At that moment, a woman riding a very tall black horse rode past. She rode bareback and a young child sat in front of her. My dog ran after the horse and the woman slowed to reach down and raise my dog up onto the horse's back, between the child and herself. They rode away. I called out after them, but to no avail. I ran. I ran as fast as I possibly could, around the rocks and through the trees. I could see the horse ahead, but I could not gain ground. I noticed my dog was wagging her tail, enjoying the ride. I chased them through a shopping centre, pushing past shop assistants and customers. Up stairs, down stairs, around corners, in and out of buildings, but they were so fast and always ahead. Finally, I chased them right back to where the chase had begun: by the rock pool by the sea. The horse slowed and the woman alighted, bringing the child and my dog to the ground with her. I ran straight to her, gasping for breath, and hit her as hard as I could. 'You took my dog,' I cried. She looked surprised, but not hurt. 'I was just taking her for a ride', she said.