Saturday, 25 December 2010

A. was pregnant

I left a place where I was supposed to be (it was something like a school or camp) and I was walking down a busy road. I could see a crowd moving but I was some steps behind. It started to rain a lot suddenly and I tried to get mixed with the crowd and hide under somebody else's umbrella. Then I met A. a friend of my friend D. whom I am very fond of. She had a big transparent umbrella and she invited me under it politely. I approached and we walked together. She was going to a pub to meet D. and I went along. We were sitting next to the cosy bar and they were talking about an unconfirmed situation, considering her relationship, that problematized A.. Later I saw that I had left this place and I was walking towards a shore. A. came running to me and told me that I should congratulate her. She told me she was pregnant and that she had talked to the baby's father that lived abroad and that he would come to stay with her and raise their child together. I felt honestly happy for her and I started wondering why I have never wanted a child of my own, if I was loosing the opportunity to have one and so on and so on. We were walking next to a stone built wall with some strange iron circular small inscriptions. I wondered what they were about but could not figure it out. When we approached the shore A. told me she had to live and I stayed there on my own. The landscape was peculiar. It looked like a natural shallow pool with small formations of brown stone in the color of sand and with similar texture. Lot's of people were lying on towels and gave an old-school sensation with their tanned bodies, sun-bleached hair and out-fashioned bathing suits. It looked like an advertisement from the seventies for some trendy Greek island. I stepped into the water but did not like it one bit. It was lukewarm and unnatural. I walked away and some time later I was stopped by another friend of D.'s, S..I am quite fond of this guy too. He told me he had a secret he wanted to show me. We hid behind a straw fence and he wrote some letters on a paper. It seemed that he had figured out a way of writing the formed big and thick letters with as little effort as possible. His letters seemed like Gothic and they had small lines to fill in their width but he seemed to be doing a single line. They were mostly capitals and made with straight lines, like the letters "L", "I","T", "K" etc. He showed me some wooden boxes that had similar letters to his stamped on them and said he figured out their owner's secret and that thus, we could escape. We seemed to have been enslaved but the owner of the boxes. He was the father of a rich girl I used to know in primary school and junior high-school, F.. She was vulgar, blond, very popular with the boys because she was slutty like a teenage tv-star and gave me a rather hard time, as I was the complete opposite: brunette, chubby (not so much, she was slightly thinner than me and we both had big breasts for our age but I had always had a complex with my weight that was enforced because until the third grade I had to wear shoes for flat-feet and could not run easily or as fast as the other children. I was also very poor and my clothes were old, handmade and in odd sizes), yet a very good student, serious-looking and intimidating towards the boys. Anyway, it was good that S. had found the solution and we agreed to meet again soon so that he could explain things to me.
The next thing I remember is being inside a double-decked train. People were staring at me in a hostile manner. When we were near my home town I got up and started going down the stairs. I held tight a brown fluffy bag I had with me. A woman told me that the train did not make a stop there and I responded that she was wrong. She insisted that there was not a stop where I wanted to get off but I ignored her. As I was going down the stairs I thought that the bag I had with me was not my regular one, nor did it have inside all the things I usually carry with me. I wished I had left it at home and that I had not forgotten to take it from my train-seat. That would be disastrous. I did not really want to be there but since I had gotten into the train for some reason I could not recall, I decided to visit my mom. I was about to cross a very wide road when I saw a car passing slowly. In the driver's seat was a friend of mine, S., I haven't seen for ages. I waved at him and meant to ask what on Earth he was doing there, as he lives at the other side of the country. He did not stop though, he just gave me a wide smile as his car was passing extremely slowly in front of me.

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