Any fortune tellers in the house? What’s the meaning of this?
It is morning. I am in my cousin’s apartment. I visited her, and somehow, I didn’t go home. She is just getting out to go to the office and she comes carrying her handbag to the sitting room where I spent the night on the sofa. She asks me to escort her to the stairs. Now her hous appears strangely built. It is like an office building, with a tinted swinging glass door. I get up from the sofa and I’m escorting her out. As we exit the room, we pass by the dining table, where a lady in a long red sweater is sitting helping her daughter with homework. Her seat is almost blocking the way. She is slim and light, with streaks of golden dye in her hair, which is pulled to the back of her head and tied in a bun. Her sweater is one of those long one, perforated at the cuff and the helm, that come down to the upper thigh, and it has a loose, buckleless belt, undone. That’s all I can see as we pass them. I recognize her as a famous tv anchor, A.K. She stands and pulls her seat forward to let us pass through the door. She doesn’t know me, and l can’t explain her presence in my cousin’s dining room either. I say ‘hi’ just in passing.
Out in the passage–this is actually on a high floor in an office building–we meet a throng of people walking briskly, as people do in a busy street. I notice a terrace restaurant to the right. I say bye to my cousin at the stairs, then turn to head back to the apartment. But on the way back, I’m meeting all these strangers who keep staring at me and looking back when I pass them. I then become aware that I am walking in the middle, running smack into people, and not giving way. (This is wierd, I never do that).Then it hits me: I’m dressed only in my boxers!
How did that happen–to walk out undressed, and with my cousin? I can’t tell. How come she didn’t tell me? Perhaps this is how people lose their minds, you don’t see what everyone else sees?!
I’m thinking all this as I frantically try to find my way back to the apartment to get dressed. But now I can’t find the damn door. I just can’t. I’m lost.
As I walk around, I’m sweating in fear, yet it is a cold morning. I have this wierd feeling that these people know me, a common madman, yet they are strangers. I know I’m just a naked frightened man, not a mad one! The wall is curved, and I eventually find myself next to the terrace. I come across a security guard leaning against one of the pillars next to the restaurant. I explain my predicament. Apparently, she gives me a dark brown jacket to wear–it seems to appear magically on me, I don’t remember her giving me the jacket. I just become aware that that is what I’m now wearing and she is leading me through the crowd of people to Apartment no. 6, which I can see out in the distant wall written in gold. She claims that is where my cousin lives. But it doesn’t seem true–how come I just came from there yet I could not see it? Another thought crosses my mind, she’s a smallish woman, like A.K., why are the sleeves of her jacket so long? I can’t see my hands, they are hidden in the sleeves as I try to hold them up. In my current mental state, I “know” 6 is not a good number. But I don’t know why. I actually feel scared of the door with the gold lettering.
We never reach that apartment, because–I’m suddenly awake.
I am in bed at home, and it is morning.
