We sat down in the cinema, on the right-hand side towards
the front. As we settled, for some reason, I removed my boots. The movie was
soon to begin. I looked around in the semi-darkness and saw my friend sitting alone
in the furthest seat of the same row, over on the other side of the cinema. My heart leapt. My
partner left for a moment, perhaps to buy something to eat, and because I’d already
removed my boots, I decided to text my friend. ‘I can see you’, I attempted to
type, but all the letters turned into emojis and my message was indecipherable.
I erased it and tried again but again my message changed. My partner returned and
announced there was something wrong in the projection room. It became clear the
movie wouldn’t be screened so people began to file out. I hurriedly tried to
put my boots back on but the process of lacing them took longer than usual. My
friend rose to leave and walked up the isle. I called out but there was too
much noise in the theatre and she left. I felt disappointed because I miss her
dearly. It was an opportunity lost. I finally finished lacing my boots and left
the cinema. My partner was nowhere to be seen.
Outside, I realised I was on a vast
university campus and I couldn’t remember the way out. There were market stalls
set up around the place and I had to walk through them to navigate my way across
the courtyard. I saw a beautiful striped shirt hanging on a wire hanger at the
end of a rack of clothing in one of the stalls. I doubled back to take a better
look but it had gone. I continued on but the courtyard merged into corridors,
which merged into vast auditoriums, then indoor swimming pools, then more rooms
with stairs and elevators. I slumped on the ground, exhausted, trying to fathom
my way. A couple of young women gave me directions and so I continued. More
courtyards, stairwells and such, then, finally, I found myself at the edge of
the campus but, now, night was falling and no one was around.
I
hesitated and
turned around, thinking I might go back to try to find my partner but
stopped in horror. My path was
blocked by perhaps a hundred snakes of different sizes and colours. None
were
moving; rather, all were poised as though ready to strike, their bodies
frozen
mid attack. I knew one false move and they’d be upon me. In particular, I
noticed one enormous brown snake, his head almost as big as mine, his
body long
and powerful, each scale defined, his eyes alert. I daren’t run. I
couldn’t
move forward. Instead, I instinctively raised my arms and hands in front
of me
– a double stop signal – and commanded them to go away. ‘Get back,’ I
said. Nothing happened and I felt I needed to say it again, more loudly,
with more conviction
and power. Again, nothing happened. Instead, the most dangerous of the
snakes,
the king brown, advanced on me, threatening to attack. His face was only
a couple of feet from mine and I stared into his eyes. I straightened
my arms
in front of me, spread my fingers as wide as I could, summoned all my
power and
desperation, drew my strength from the earth, and this time yelled at
the snakes at the top of my lungs, swearing loudly, my true feelings
clear.
Immediately
the snakes recoiled, each into its own brown paper bag. The ground
opened
beneath them and they fell into a pit. The pit was so wide, a couple of
young women
stumbled at its edge. One fell in and I caught the other and dragged her
away
from the hole to safety. I looked over the edge and saw all the snakes
writhing
away, ushered by men in white uniforms into a white room like a
laboratory. The young woman who’d
fallen was standing upright, calling out to say she was fine, she’d not
been
hurt, but rather than helping her back up, the men ushered her away with
the snakes. As they went, before the door closed behind them, I saw her
body begin to transform: her ribs extended out from her body, stretching
her
skin taut like an alien. I knew she’d been bitten and was changing form.
