The Furious Spinner

On Monday, clouds covered the sky at dusk, like massive bruises. I took candles out to the pool, and Mario and I sat on the edge of it with our feet in the warm spa. The lights from the city lit up the western sky. We went back into the casita just as it began to rain. Hard. We opened the door that leads to the porch and walled garden so we could listen to the rain battering the tin roof. We kept the door open while we slept, hoping to hear the coyotes. I awakened in the middle of the night to the sound of the coyotes howling. They sounded so close I thought they might be in our garden, a serenade just for us. But I fell right back to sleep before I could get up and check or wake Mario up so he could hear.

I dreamed I was walking around naked, but I kept saying to people, “It’s OK because I’m dreaming.” I called someone on the phone for help and wasn’t surprised to hear my own voice on the other end. I asked how to help myself and I answered, but I don’t remember what I said. People kept looking at me, and I kept saying, “It’s OK, it’s only a dream. See, pinch me. It won’t hurt.” But when I pinched myself, I felt it. So I decided to get dressed. A clothes designer had to pick out what I should wear. It was late, though, and we had very little time before the fashion show. We went by a mannequin with a long black coat, a white short-sleeved top, and black pants. “Fabulous! Fabulous! That will be perfect,” the designer said. I figured he knew what he was doing. I suggested a strand of pearls to go with it, and he agreed. This was all rather amusing, seeing I’m not much of fashionista. In the morning, I awakened to the sounds of the owls in the palm tree, inquiring, “Who? Who?” Who are you? Who, who, who, who? 0 comments

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All photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.