Thursday, 5 January 2012

Dreams and nightmares

For nearly a year
I moved on

Then out of the blue
I remember

The images try to escape
I force the trapdoor shut

I never attended the Christmas office party
Until there was no-one else to organise one

I booked, I paid, I invited, I went
Not one but two

I survived the first
But broke down in the second

He sat to my right
And I was trapped

He kept on asking
Until I started talking

And remembering

He was so quiet in the morning
But on return
Drenched by the rain
He was energised
He had spoken to his cousin
They had found a buyer
For the house on the river

I remembered

And I dreamt

Cycling down the empty road
Trapped in the mosque
Climbing to the exit
Up the spiral rusting metal steps
Complete with calligraphy

Reaching the roof
To find
The trapdoor
Being pushed down on my head

1 comment:

  1. My great-grandfather's home
    Where we stayed that first summer we returned home
    Just after the revolution
    Where I celebrated my sixteenth birthday and my wedding
    The house by the river

    Fifteen months later


    When my son asks why we cannot visit, a simple answer now is we have nowhere to stay anymore