Monday, September 11, 2006

Dream-cum-nightmare, what's what, dangling carrot, doberman

The faceless man kept lashing at me with a machete, and his slashes are so quick, I don’t realise he has hit me until I see the deep gash in my right hand, in which only pain starts to throb long seconds after I have been staring at it. He is absolutely mental, and to my screams of terror, of frantic attempts to escape, he only responds with laughter. I dunno how often I see him chase after me, with this huge knife, and I can’t help but scream, screams so violent they feel like they are going to tear me apart, and I run, my body running on the energy of fear and panic, driving me to exhaustion, while he keeps up with me effortlessly, like it is only a game which amuses him greatly.

Then I am with this family, and the wife gathers laundry, and I offer to carry her hamper. You don’t have to, she says, but I insist, and I carry it, even though it makes that cut bleed; I want to help so they can see I am good, and they can love me.
They have a party, and I play with their two children, and I am so anxious not to do anything wrong, because if the kids hate me, they will hate me, too.
After the party, I want to help them clean up and prepare sandwiches for tomorrow. They look tired and I ask them when they have to get up. We’ve got to be somewhere by 10 o’clock, they say, and I am shocked and offer to finish the food so they can go to bed. They politely refuse, and I can tell they want to get rid of me, nicely, and I wish this would never end. I could just be a quiet interior of their apartment, their life, I would be no trouble, no trouble at all, and soak up the love in this family. It doesn’t have to be directed at me, just experiencing theirs would be enough for me.
They hug me and say, We’ll be in touch, and we’ll write you. I can never be sure that will happen, most say that to shorten the goodbye, but then you never hear from them again. I know that. I know it will be that way. They don’t know what it means for me to have to leave.

No comments: