it is one of those moments when you get excited about one thing more than anyone closest to you would. night has just fallen and automobiles light up like fireflies, ferociously looking for enemies and friends at the same time on the city’s roads. you are looking out from inside one of the fireflies’s cold belly, thinking of one of the best books you have recently read. your husband and one of your dear friends would love the protagonist’s mother because she likes wallace stevens and transcendental poetry that do not incorporate the narcissistic pronoun “I”. and then you get distracted by the tender and alluring smell of freshly made pancakes you just bought.
i was a vampire, running away from my flock for reasons i now can’t remember. i flew and flew above the city’s streets and highways, alarming people along the way. the strange thing was, they frightened me too and i didn’t think i wanted even a drop of their blood. i attempted to fly higher but failed. i wasn’t sure whether it was because of the wind or vampires were never built to fly above a certain altitude.
not long after, i was flying above a small avenue. i tried to hide in a tree but i always slipped and made myself exposed to the passersby below. to protect myself, i put on a threatening face and i could see as well as feel the fear in their faces, even under the helmets of motorcyclists.
while i was struggling with the stupid tree, i saw a military truck drove by on my side of the street. sitting on the back was a handsome officer who could pass for a movie star and he smiled at me. i was so amazed – there was this human being who wasn’t scared of me and i wasn’t scared of him either. i felt almost in love.
i don’t remember what happened next. all i know i was in my room, tears on my face, holding on to the door to defend it from the attack of my fellow vampires. i was losing for its bolts had been disengaged and i could see archaic hands reaching from behind the trembling door.
i jumped again to a different scene. this time i was running on a pedestrian walk with a boy. i think he looked like M but i remember his face kept changing. we carried duffel bags and at some point we dropped the bags and ran without them. but only after a few steps, we fell over on the pavement.
my friend pointed out to me a sign on the shop in front of us that said “scratch to model”, which meant if you wanted to work as a model you have to scratch several panels on the door, which looked like those things you need to scratch on your mobile phone vouchers. i remembered thinking i needed the money badly so i stood up and began scratching.
then we saw people searching our bags. i stopped scratching and we ran quickly to stop them. i saw my friend’s bag was already empty.
the next thing i knew i was either having sex or had just had sex with my boyfriend. as it is in all my dreams so far, sex is never graphic.