opportunities lost, obstacles and snakes

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.