i'm watching the x-files. scully has been entranced by an evil being while she was on the train to north sydney, and she is living in a dangerous world of poisonous beautiful illusion: i see her vision. she is hurtling gaily across the sydney harbour in a crystal and gold baroque carriage in the company of a stunning dusky gold-swathed goddess, laughing oblivious as the sunset rings the carriage with copper and gold. in reality she is hanging off the end of a stinking decrepit red-rattler.
the illusion trembles and she sees the goddess morph briefly into her true evil form of a tall dark man with a beard wearing a colourful fez and a cape emblazoned with question-marks. scully loses her balance and falls like a stone off the bridge into lavender bay. mulder will save her, but he has to break her trance, to shatter her illusions. in a tin shed he swings from a beam dressed only in a scanty string vest and tight underpants, repeatedly banging groin first into her dazed form.
later in a deserted field with brad and two computers on trestle- tables, he remarks that i have some pretty wierd dreams. i say 'wait till you read the one i'm about to type that i've just had about the x-files..its pretty stupid.'
using X-window, I repeatedly click on wrong and unknown icons, spawning a cacophony of windows when all I want to do is close them. more and more strange windows open until finally they are buildings towering over me, and i must climb a step- ladder to access the light-switch that will banish them.
when closing one building i strike up a conversation with gong li who informs me that mr.nasty is planning to strike again soon. she regrets that she and all her relatives will be compelled to follow him in a feverous religious killing spree. i reassure her that i will still love her in the morning, as i understand and forgive obsession.
the time is drawing nigh and it becomes clear that only i can oppose his dark force...but first to choose a suitable super-hero outfit. at the whitehouse i rummage through racks of clothes holding up a romantic white ruffled evening gown, a black satin tight off-the-shoulder number and several hats. everything is impractical and i can foresee it getting torn on barbed wire fences, or impeding my movement.
a blanket of impending doom hangs thickly over the city, and i am ripping my hair out in the frustration of having nothing to wear. finally i have to settle on a long pale pink jumper-dress with matching fluffy pink bunny-ears that strap under the chin in a bonnet-fashion. it'll just have to do. i set on down the deserted highway with a determined stride, not entirely sure of my purpose or destination.
copyright 1995 lisa bode