I am in an open top convertible, silver, driving along a deserted street on the way to Mum and Mao Senior’s house. Or is it to my own?
There is nothing on the street. No people, no other cars, everything is grey with a thin film of dust, the skyscrapers in the distance, the strip malls, even the road itself. Until I see the bright lit yellow sign of a liquor store coming up on the right.
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Yes, I need to get some wine before I get home, so immediately I turn onto the next side street to look for parking. I slow the car and at the end of the side street there is an alternative store, an Indian deli. I can get some provisions there while I am at it, so I pull up near a metal fence.
There are a couple of other cars parked to the right; and further along, closer to the deli is a space next to a gate that protects a vacant lot. I peer into a building site with a disused bulldozer, then park on the far side of the gate, against the fence.
Will it be safe?
Tall grey office buildings mark an intersection on the other side of the road. Looking down the intersection another office building caps the end; all the streets deserted, except for a Sikh man who stands by the vegetable crates stacked in front of his store.
It will be fine, I think, so I get out and head back to the main road.
Now I am waking, or maybe not; see shadows on the opposite wall of my bedroom, of the window, the lights outside. Prison bars flicker and in the image is a face, flickering in color, as if on a movie reel. Is it my younger face? No maybe it is Elaine, I cannot tell.
I have to write this dream down so I pick up my iPad to quickly begin but the battery light is blinking red. I won’t have time. From the bedside table I pull at the charging cable; and though it is tangled I am able to plug it into the socket before the iPad dies.
Photo by B via Flickr
