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“Oh bed,” she sighed as, clad in her apricot satin pyjamas, she snuggled down under the bedclothes. Having lifted up and spread out, princess-like, her long dark hair to avoid restricting her movements, she pulled the pillows down to support her neck, lowered her shoulders and placed her arms at her sides, elbows bent and hands resting lightly on her groin. This ritual for relaxation allowed her to easily slip into daydreaming prior to sleep, and if she were lucky, would carry her selected daydream on into dreaming.
Her affectionate lilac Burmese cat trod up the bed, circled, settled its weight against her hip, curled up and began to purr. She could hear her husband showering in the en-suite bathroom – he would be a while yet, so she was safe to start. Quite a lot of dreaming could be done before he eventually climbed into bed, and unless he actively wanted sex she knew he’d not disturb her. Most of the time he didn’t even speak to her – not even to say ‘goodnight’. Usually, her sense of loss and disappointment prompted her to murmur “Goodnight darling” just to evoke a response, to counter her feelings of invisibility. Perversely, at the same time she wanted to preserve her isolation so as not to disturb her precious dreams.
‘Where am I? Oh, yes. We are in Hawaii! What a great place. God, I wish I could go back there again – to live for a while. This time I’m not with my husband – he won’t come so I am with my lover instead. We arrive in Honolulu at one a.m., but by the time we get through Customs it is three a.m. Then the drive in the transfer van to the hotel, up the escalator to the lobby to book in, and on to our room. It’s the same hotel and the same room my husband and I stayed in – I guess I’m doing that because it’s easier, something I know, to add reality to this dream.
‘Out on the balcony I go to look at the view. The streets are still lit, people still roam around and the disco downstairs still pounds out music – at this hour of the morning! I am not tired despite the hour, but I know I should sleep so I won’t miss any of tomorrow – I mean today. He steps out behind me, encircles me with his arms, and I lean back against him. He’s warm and loving, so attentive.
‘“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs in my ear. I turn to kiss him, long and deep, our bodies pressed together. I follow him into the room where I lie on the huge bed – king-size, with three great pillows banked along its headboard, flanked by tables with their shell-filled glass-jar lamps. (Just like before.) He rolls the timber slatted shutters across the windows – we’re not sure if we’re overlooked by the surrounding tall hotels and shopping complexes.
She felt her husband climb into bed, the waterbed tightening as his weight displaced the water. When he’d settled, and the waterbed waves had settled, she murmured “Goodnight darling”, waited for his mumbled reply, then slipped back and on with the dream creation.
‘Where am I? Oh, yes. About to make love. Lovingly, cradling me, he kisses me, long and passionately. He wants to rush and so do I, but we are free to take all the time we want – at last. I slow him down by alternating tender kisses with passionate ones. He responds, and moves down kissing my throat and breasts as he goes. I relax, sighing with delight, drifting with pleasure . . .
You relax, sighing with delight, drifting with pleasure. You lie there, yielding to him. The passion builds, he enters and just as you begin to climax your husband opens the door and walks in. But that’s okay, you aren’t doing anything, just talking.
You’re home in your lounge room having coffee with him. Your son is there too with his girlfriend. The conversation is about Hawaii.
“I’m not boring you with all this,” you say, as you indicate the photo album on the smoked-glass coffee table.
“No, it’s fascinating,” he says. “I only wish I could go there too.” He sighs, gives you a knowing look and continues. “Maybe one day I’ll run away with you to Hawaii, and you can show me around.”
Everyone laughs, including your husband. “I should be so lucky. Another beer, mate?”
“No. I must be going.” He eases himself out of the deep chair and you stand reluctantly, then follow him out to his car which appears to be parked in a city street.
People are hurrying past, pushing and jostling you further apart from each other. You call out to him and he thrusts through the crowd as you go under. You are lying on the pavement looking fragile, a lot slimmer than you know you really are. He lifts you gently into his arms, distressed by your unconscious state. You watch him lift you, hold you, cradle you, caress your hair, speak your name, imploring you to revive.
Once more your husband is there, demanding that he sit you up and put your head between your knees. How ungainly! You wake to find them bending over you, but now you’re afraid. Run! Run! Fly! You must fly – thank God you know how to fly. You grab their hands to help them fly, but they are too heavy – dead weights.
You soar into the sky, skimming past power lines, the main hazard, then swoop back to them. You must save them, they’re just boys, your sons. You snatch them up and fly across the fields, the lakes, towards your home and safety. Your arms are getting very tired. You feel exhausted. You sink into softness . . .
The alarm radio cut the silence. Her husband grunted, moved, and clambered out of bed. As the bed softened beneath her, she was aware of the morning, but felt exhausted. She snuggled deeper under her feather quilt.
‘I don’t want to let go of my dream. What happened to my lover in Hawaii? I seem to have got off the track. I don’t have to get up yet. Where am I? Oh, yes. About to make love with my lover in Hawaii. He’s so wonderful the way he wants me, as if I am precious. I don’t know what he sees in me. I’m not exactly slim and beautiful. I’m overweight. But I do have lovely hair. I wish he would tell me what he likes about me. All he wants to do is screw me. Talking about which . . . . .
(C) Jud House 25/09/2006
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