giant wave of change

I was searching for a place that we could go for a few days to get away, hopefully by the sea. I searched the Internet but the places I found for the budget I had were inappropriate - temporary houses made of cardboard, run down hotels, or nice places near the water that were too costly. I can remember seeing the prices of the places listed change as I watched them, rising or falling unpredictably. Suddenly we were staying in a house on a bay. The house had a rather old feel about it and was furnished with 70s style lounge chairs and furniture in browns and green. I left the bedroom, walked into the living room where some of my family were seated, and went to look out the large glass doors. I could see a vast body of water and an old wooden jetty below the house, down a steep cliff. The day was overcast with a green tinge to the sky and the water looked deep and brownish green. I was trying to ascertain if it would be safe to swim here. I glanced into the far horizon for a moment when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, something move in the water below, perhaps fish jumping. I wondered if there was something under the water scaring the fish. As I looked, I began to make out a fish-shaped shadow lurking in the water. It stayed relatively still and I wondered if it was a shark. It became clearer still and I could see that it was a giant fish, much like a gold fish but perhaps four metres long, waiting in the water. Suddenly, I was in the water down below the house, swimming with my sister or my brother: there was only one sibling with me but at times it was one of them and then the other - they were interchangeable. We felt unsettled as we swam and then saw a huge king wave coming. I knew that there was something dire wrong with the environment, that this was a point of great crisis. I felt the pull and drag of the water as the wave approached so I grabbed my sibling's hand and we dived as deep as we could go whilst the wave thundered over our heads. Surfacing, I saw the wave hit the cliff on which the house was perched, the tip of the wave slamming into the house, water rushing in the open glass doors. We saw another wave approaching so again we dived, waiting for the wave to pass. We surfaced and saw a third wave about to strike; we gulped air deep into our lungs and dived a third time. This time the wave seemed to go on and on. I held onto my sibling, forcing him/her to stay below for fear of surfacing to soon and being crushed by the power of the mammoth wave crashing against the cliff. When we finally surfaced, we were out of breath but safe. There were no more waves visible against the horizon. We climbed out of the water and ran up the stone stairs cut into the cliff, all the way back up to the house. My brother/sister splashed straight through the house and out onto the street, searching for our family. Before joining them, I went first to the bedroom, wading through ankle-deep water, to check if my friend was alright, but the room was bare. I looked for my handbag so we would have some money but it was gone. I supposed my friend must have grabbed it for me. I went to leave but hesitated, trying to think if there was anything else I should take to help us survive what felt like disaster and imminent homelessness. I thought about taking thongs so I could walk on stones under the water in this changed landscape, but felt that my feet would adapt as we walked. I went outside and saw my family waiting on the other side of the street. My friend was with them but the handbag was missing. I ran over, anxious about the wellbeing of everyone but glad that they were all there, and my friend began to talk about feeling exhausted. I felt it was strange considering the scale of what had just transpired that my friend was focussed on her own concerns.

unsteady

B and I were visiting K, a close friend. We were sitting in her lounge room and her baby was sleeping in the adjoining bedroom. Her mother walked in and joined us. It didn't strike me as odd at the time though she is no longer with us in waking life. We had a good conversation and then it was time to go. B and K went into the bedroom to see the baby and I intended to, but as I stood I felt unsteady on my feet. I had to haul myself up, leaning heavily on the back of the chair, and then as I walked across the room, I stumbled into furniture. The mother seemed not to notice and continued chatting with me. I missed the opportunity to see the baby as I was far too slow moving and felt I couldn't trust my body not to fall and wake him.
Next B and I were travelling up a street in our neighbourhood. I experienced the same unsteady, giddy feeling and fell onto the ground. B helped me up and we were observed by an older woman who was standing at the front window of her art gallery. The gallery was in a terrace house and I could see that there were three levels: below ground, ground level and an upstairs level. I wanted to go in but thought it best that I should visit another time as I might knock something over if I fell again.

moving too fast and not getting in

I was travelling down a street in the suburb where I grew up. I was with B and we were moving with some speed. We were neither walking nor driving, rather we seemed to be propelled along, hovering slightly above the ground, as though riding a skate board but with nothing between our feet and the ground. As we passed the Uniting church, B detoured so she could have a look inside. I slowed down and waited for her out the front. There were several dogs tied up outside the church, all barking joyfully. I avoided the bigger dogs and moved slightly out of reach. One of the smaller dogs broke free of his leash and bounded over to me. I knelt down to pat him - he had wonderfully soft pale gold hair, almost like down, and a dear little face. When B came out, I introduced them. I was sorry to leave him. We continued on until we reached the Anglican church further down the road. We 'parked' outside and then went into the church hall. There were quite a few people there, all waiting for something to begin. My friend, G, was there, but where most people were waiting in the hall, he had taken up residence in the Sunday School rooms underneath the church itself. It grew dark and I wanted to find G. I went outside, walked down the back of the church and looked through the Sunday School windows. I could see G sitting inside talking with a woman I know. I wanted to join them so I knocked on the window and G pointed to the way in. I lay down on the ground and tried to squeeze through the small space between the window and the floor. It was quite narrow and I wondered how L had gone inside as she is both taller and bigger than me. I called out to ask if there was another way in. G pointed to a door. I wondered why he had not told me of the best way in earlier and if I should go in at all.
Next I was driving a big brown car. I am not sure what kind of car it was but it was old and cumbersome. I was having trouble driving as I couldn't see out the window properly and I seemed to have trouble handling the steering and reaching the brakes. I suddenly realised that I was driving from the back seat and my vision was obscured by the seat. I needed to climb into the front but I was having great difficulty as the car was moving at great speed and I was on a highway.

printer

I visited a printers where I was trying to source environmentally sound and inexpensive card and paper on which to print. To see the printer's stock, I climbed up a staircase in a warehouse space, up to the mezzanine level where the paper was stored in cartons and on racks. The paper I was looking for was off-cuts and seconds, destined otherwise for the rubbish heap. I was excited as I found so much that I could use, a plethora of weights, colours and sizes.
Next, I was downstairs in a different space, trying to call someone on the telephone. I felt a little cagey so I hid in the toilet cubicle to make the call. I sat on the lidded seat but then realised that everyone could see through the walls. I was in my old pyjamas. I understood that I was calling the printer.
Next, I observed a scene. The printer went home and his wife walked in. They lived in a large unit or a small house on a hill or cliff in the Hamilton, Brisbane, region. His wife told him that she was leaving him. Her reasons were unclear though she mentioned that he didn't take care of himself or their home, that she had had enough. I remember that she was quite attractive with dark brown hair, brown eyes and distinctive eye liner and shaped brows. She left. I could see that the printer felt mixed emotions; I understood that he had considered leaving for a long time but had delayed out of concern for his wife, and that he was somewhat angered that she had left him so readily and out of the blue. Nonetheless, he started a new life. He rearranged the rooms so that where her bedroom was, he now had a music room. He cleared things out and climbed up onto the roof to clean out the drains blocked with leaves. Water rushed off the roof where it had pooled, stagnant. He took a good look at his appearance and tended to his teeth, his hair and his health. It went on. Rather than witnessing the next phase of the printer adjusting and changing his life, I saw it written in chalk on a blackboard, rather like reading stage directions. 'music lessons, practises yoga, reads books, paints an abstract (it was very good), cooks ...' and many more. The blackboard changed into a newspaper and his story was published. I saw the newspaper pages blown by the wind through the city streets, and stick to people. Men with newspaper pages plastered to their chests, their faces, their suitcases. The news spread far and wide.
Next, I walked along Kingsford Smith Drive, his house up the steep hill on one side and the Brisbane river on the other. I walked until I found a block of units on the river where I would consider living. An old woman welcomed me - the landlord of the building.

perfect day

I was walking the streets of my childhood neighbourhood, up Bender away from my grandparents' house, and along Rae, past the school. I was walking home. There were two people also walking, people I had encountered on my journey, but I knew we would soon part ways. It was late in the afternoon and though it was winter, the day had a delicious balminess about it; whilst the sun shone hotly, a cool wind countered it. The blue of sky was so deep that it veered on turquoise. I felt an expectancy, a sense of well-being. I remarked upon the wonderful day to the two people walking alongside me. Though the man agreed, I could see that the woman felt no joy in the afternoon. Where I would usually want to help her see the beauty I saw and feel the happiness I felt, I wanted to leave them so they would not dampen my euphoria, my delight. I walked on homeward, basking in the afternoon and looking forward to the evening.

stealing

B and I were sitting on our balcony, talking. We heard a noise in the street, looked over the balcony wall, and saw our neighbours taking items from our car. They had their hands through the slightly open windows, stealing things. I screamed at them, telling them to stop. They poked around a little more and then walked off casually. We returned to conversation, and mentioned that as least now we knew who not to trust. We heard another noise and again looked over the wall. This time there were several men taking things from our vehicle; the car had now turned into a ute and they were lifting the tarpaulin, stealing items that were underneath. We both yelled out at them and then found ourselves outside on the street. B was fighting with one or two of them and a couple of the others grabbed me, threw me on the back of their ute and raced off down the street. One of the men guarded me and taunted me. I could see that he was unwashed and smelt of bad cigarette smoke. When they stopped at the lights at the other end of the street, I jumped off the ute and ran away as fast as I could go. The man chased me. The street turned into a staircase and I began to scale it but I felt I had chosen the wrong path as I was struggling to run fast up stairs and he was gaining on me. The stairs seemed to go on and on, one flight finishing and the next beginning. The man tripped at the bottom of a new flight of stairs, so I took the opportunity and pelted away. I raced back down the street toward home.

bathroom

B and I were staying in a hotel in Sydney. It was the early evening and it was dark outside. I went into the bathroom intending to have a bath but there was ankle deep water flooding the whole room. The bathroom was all white with two baths - a small triangular bath and a long and deep bath - as well as a shower, hand basin and toilet. I fetched B from the bed to look at the situation, but when we went back into the bathroom, the water that had covered the white tiled floor was gone and the larger bath was half-full of steaming hot water. I wondered who had filled the bath and noticed a door I had not previously seen, opening into the next apartment. I could hear a television and knew that someone was coming to have a bath. I was dismayed that the hotel had not told us that we were sharing a bathroom and it seemed very unusual, particularly as the hotel was rather opulent. I thought I might be able to squeeze in a shower before our neighbour returned to the bathroom, but she then walked in. B, she and I stood in the room, attempting to negotiate the situation. B and I had to be somewhere very soon and we both felt that we had been cheated by the hotel.