Weird Dreams Part I

The sun is rising , the smell of summer wafts as the heat conducts itself most tirelessly./ Of heat upon decking of blinding white plastic, of suncream and salt and sand and spice.

The po-faced one says "you will have to throw them from here," and here, we do./ Silks and satins balooning like jellyfish from great heights.

"and now you had better wash them, see as Martha does" although we don't know why/ but out step we on our pretty-little toes to save us from the sun-beat boards

from the dock with a yard of wood stirring, we gather our clothes on the sea-bed/ a circular rug breaks free and has to be recovered, some horrid beast in raggedy reds and blues

I had rather it would leave. Quite how this is getting anything clean no one dares ask/ but we mangle and we place the clothes upon ourselves and we walk to the rehearsal.

There are many faces, I walk alone in procession, bearing gifts, catching eyes. /That one there, I foiled her plan. She was to have made a fool of me. Was it me?

Or was it the stern-faced one who barked? No matter. No matter./ Still she scowls and is gone, into a sea of android women with moon faces.

The booth, the group, is waiting. I scurry and take my place amongst their chatter./ We drink, throwing our heads back lewdly, as the pearls are placed and the coal-dust lines our eyes.

Something is placed around my neck, I lean forward to have it clasped but I am jolted back/ The sudden silence of the room deafens. Begging now, to be let loose, but I am strung pearls.

I can't breathe. No really, I can't breathe. And I don't know if I am quite dreaming./ In front of the crowds she drags me, limp, releasing me in a room, to the side.

Let off, I stab the wide, blank face behind. The one who tried to make a fool has succeeded/ and is sitting straight, her spectacles resting upon a sliver of a nose.

"I'm suing you for GBH" I croak in a voice which is not mine and run into the lobby./ "Why didn't you stop her?" I rasp to a chorus of shrugs.

The sensible mistress, for I assume that is her, steps forward/ "You see dear girl, noone likes you, we just don't like you"

The crowd murmurs in accession, giggling churlishly in places./I cry.

I wake bolt upright, my heart thumps beneath my breast and my throat pains me.