dreaming

I walk into a small American town, a stranger, with my son.  We look very different.  I have just arrrived from the orient and am clad in indian style attire.  As we walk in people begin to whisper amongst themselves.  The time period seems early in this century.  My son and I progress through a beautifully landscaped area toward a large, ornate stone hotel.  In a fountained foyer I meet a woman who nearly died within her marriage to a man, who was emotionally unavailable and disinterested in her.  She met a man who made her laugh and who spent time playing with her and her son.  Although they don't seem to have an intimate relationship, they are deeply happy with one another.  The husband is so disinterested he doesn't appear to notice although there is a tension in the woman that he may discover and disapproving, take her companion from her.  I walk toward the check in desk, past tables of men smoking cigars and women looking proper.  I hear them passing rumors back and forth about a black man, a dead man and me.  As I arrive at the desk I am now wearing army green military clothing, tailored in the style of the 40's or 20's.  I begin checking in and a rude man passes by with a friend and comments on the wrinkled, disarray of my clothing, "Perhaps when traveling by train, one could drape their shirt across a chair so as to avoid a wrinkled mess".  I am aware that I am extremely beautiful and these people are afraid of me.  After securing a room on the third floor, I remove my overshirt to expose a gorgeous black lace bustier and saunter to the elevator with my son, non plussed.  When I arrive on the third floor it is too dark to see the room numbers.  My son waits in the hall, I try a door 370 something which immediately opens from within.  I am pulled inside by the rude man who is mad with desire.  He is big and is planning to rape me.  Instead of struggling I press against him enjoying the pleasure of sensuality and desire, not for him, just desire.  When I am satisfied I turn to leave.  My son is still in the hall.  There is a woman now watching at the front desk.  I can't get out without being seen.  I wait in the closet.  The woman comes in and glimpses me, she says nothing but ushers the man downstairs to show him something so that I can get out.  She is an understanding accomplice.  I take my son to our room to rest, knowing I will have to leave again tomorrow, because these people and their fear already have condemned me a witch.