Wednesday, 4 September 2013
AC/DC Dust Devil
I was travelling... I had my suitcases with me. I was dragging my roller bags across huge slabs of bedrock in a dry river bed. It was hot. The rock was grey. The river was enormous! I came across a few pools that looked as though they were deep enough for swimming. The water was emerald and blue like a calico turquoise stone. I didn't swim. I passed the waters by and continued travelling down the river bed until I came across a big rock ‘n’ roll stage. I stood by the side of the stage facing a huge audience which wound down the river bed. AC/DC were on the stage and rocking their socks off. A gust of wind picked up and a dust devil formed in the front row of the audience. The dust devil spun faster and faster, and grew larger and larger until the devil became a tornado. The audience scattered and the band dispersed. My suitcase was ripped from me by the current. I scurried off to find shelter. I came across an institutional looking building, like a library or a police station that was built in the 1970's. It was made out of cement and was very square and grey. The inside was just as sterile and grey as the outside and was lit with fluorescent lights. A woman was standing at the end of the hall wearing what seemed like every item of clothing from my suitcase. I passed by her and turned to enter a room on the right. Inside the room was a hotel room. It was dimly lit with shades of the colour brown everywhere. An old friend of mine named Jim was standing at the dry bar with no clothes on. Apparently, he was in the process of getting dressed but he stood there for a brief moment so that I could catch a glimpse of his frontal landscape. Once I had blinked him up and down he pulled his pants on. Bit odd. It was a Friday night and I wanted to make plans. I was in a city... which city, I do not know. I pulled out my crappy little phone and called my friend Emma in the hope that she would want to meet up for an evening of food and drink. She picked up the phone. "What are you guys doing tonight?" I asked. She began to respond, and as she spoke I could see in mind the red truck that she was sitting in on a dirt road. Her voice broke up and the connection was lost. I called back "What are you guys doing tonight?" The red truck, her voice and then the connection lost. I called back "What are you doing tonight?” Again, the red truck ...her voice... the connection lost. I spent the next what-seemed-like-forever in this pattern. I even woke up and fell asleep again to the same loop... "What are you doing tonight?" The red truck...her voice... the connection lost. That loop could still be playing for all I know.