dreaming again.

a rich man funded my trip. it was important i do this, important to him. he stood to make a good deal of money. perhaps a great deal of closure. perhaps his severe, black-haired wife had something to do with it. she had the look of someone rich in everything she did. rich and intelligent, not a common combination. she watched over the whole operation jealously and from behind painted eyes. i could taste my desperation. it was like heaving and continuing a conversation. every morning. i was beginning to feel as though i'd already died, with something small and alive inside, fighting.

we built the trap. we built the chariot. it was a dull, colorless process, in a dead world.

did i mention i'm vietnamese?

we prowled our trap, outside the volcano. me in my floating chariot and they from their rich apartments. they ate duck with mahogany chopsticks, the lava a glittering lamp in the distance. i sweated on colorless pumice. it cut my feet and in the darkness the blood made no stain.

i found the shark, i saw it snaking through the waters. angry. in a small pen, and going mad. it made no noise, and i found i'd underestimated it's size. i couldn't size it up properly in the steam. the sweat dripped into my eyes, i threw the harpoon, i missed. i threw the harpoon, it sunk into the tough shark flesh. i retreated into the furthest recesses of my chariot and lost consciousness.

they were a lot more careful with me the second time. this time, i ate with the man in their apartment. i'd eaten in such fine apartments before, but he wouldn't know that. it was comforting and i was grateful that he didn't talk much. with my third eye, i watched the apartment when i left and entered the elevator. the man left the room, entered another, and re-emerged with his wife's head. well, something that looked like it, well-painted to look just like her. a container. the top was rubber and he reached inside, pulled out a handful of hair. her head was attached, the real one this time. it had been dead for some time. he pulled it up to his face and kissed it.

the chariot sped behind the shark, this place more colorless than the last. i saw his rows of yellow teeth and beady eyes. i crawled as far into the recesses of the chariot as i could. a plastic crib slid into view. i screamed.

angry man in car

children in dirt

dead head

keys

school

drinking champagne

fireplace

it was terrifying, believe me.