I sit on a couch and my father leaps onto my lap. He is naked and his penis flaps against my legs like a handbag against my shoulders. It is flaccid.
He seems like a child, oblivious to what he is doing, and all I want is to get him off me.
Tall and lanky, like an oversized baby, he presents no threat to me, now. He is simply a nuisance.
In this mornings dream I sat among an assembly of people, mostly men in dark suits. They were a rowdy bunch, of politicians on either side of the fence, the Labor party and the Liberals.
In my dream, the Labor party held power, which happens to be true in reality. The Liberal party representatives were clearly affronted by this fact. You could sense their displeasure. It bordered on rage. They were restless to begin the meeting.
A local journalist from the ABC conducted the discussion. She called for questions or comments. It was hard to get a word in but I had devised a question in my mind and shot up my hand. Amazingly the journalist saw me and nodded. I could speak after two others.
‘Now you Liberal party members know what it’s like to be without power,’ I said. ‘So you should know how awful it feels to be humiliated. Don’t you think it’s time the two sides come together and work for a compromise.’
There was a clang of disapproval. My question annoyed the audience it seemed but no one had anything to say in response. I feared for a minute that I had asked a nonsense question or at least a question that could not lead further.
Eventually someone else took the floor and spoke, but not in relation to what I had said. My words seemed to fade as quickly as anyone else’s words in this non thinking bunch of people who were just plain angry.
Our half hour time was nearly over and the journalist decided to call on Amanda Trimble, a well-known Political commentator, to have the final say. I could tell that Amanda Trimble was a Labor sympathiser by the way she held herself, and the way she dressed. It was clear she supported the underdog and despite the large Liberal party presence in the room she was also popular with the crowd.
She basked in the applause, microphone in hand, before she began to speak. People applauded, at least some people applauded, but others, mostly Liberal supporters began to file out.
Soon there was a long snake of people leaving the room and the journalist had to call to them to stop and finish the meeting. Someone locked the doors, but the meeting was over and Amanda Trimble never had her say.
I was disappointed. I had thought she might have put a full stop on this unruly and meaningless meeting, but it never happened. The whole thing had seemed like a waste of time.