Quotidian—Elaine Bonow


Elaine Bonow

I lay there in a crepuscular consciousness, not awake and not asleep, my two lives, the dream me and the real me, mingling in the dawn.

I remembered the dream vividly. It was dream I kept having over and over again and I still haven’t been able to figure out what it means. I was carrying on an affair with an artist I met at a Pioneer Square gallery. The feeling of the dream was one of joy at finding someone that I could really talk to on a deep personal level. Every time I’d wake up after the dream I didn’t know if I was awake or asleep or if I was going backwards or forward in time.

He was a sculptor, a great big dirty sculptor, with a huge beard and beautiful eyes. His hands were grimy from his work. I noticed them because he was holding a huge hammer that he used to pound the metal.

I rolled over in my bed, pulled the curtain aside and basked in the warm sunlight streaming through the window. I closed my eyes and drifted away trying to re-find my dream.

My husband, Henry, had already left the house at his usual time, six-thirty. His life was regular and normal, six-thirty to the gym then to the barber for a shave arriving at the office at precisely seven thirty-five, an hour before anyone else.

“What’s your name?” He said to me as I peeked around the giant metal head of Zeus, or at least that’s what I thought the head represented.”

“I’m Flora, I’m just here for the art walk. I’ve never been to this studio before.” I closed my eyes again and there he was before me, a giant standing next to the giant head of Zeus.” Is that Zeus? I’ve been studying mythology and that look just like what I think Zeus’s head would look like.”

My phone alarm played a mambo riff. I let it go on and on and closed my eyes against the sun. “You can’t stay here, my husband will be home at exactly seven.”

“Oh, I don’t care. I can handle him it’s you I want and that’s all I want.” He took me and held me in his burly arms. I could smell the sweat of metal on him.

I looked at the time on my phone. “Oh shit, I have a tarot reading in an hour. I’d better get a move on,” I said aloud to the cat napping on my clothes covered chair. The sun enticed me. I felt his eyes on me. “It must be fate that bought you to me or maybe it was Zeus himself.”

This dream loomed in the back of my mind. I had to know what was going on, I had to take some kind of action. I was tired of feeling taken over by a dream.

I reluctantly got up and went to run a bath. The bubbles reached the top edge of the tub as I submerged my sleepy self into the warm water. Closing my eyes I see him, his arms stretched out to hold me. I wanted to pull away. ”Oh please, please you have to leave. My husband is going to be here at exactly seven.”

He pulled away and floated down the hill away from my house. “But I don’t know your name.” He said the heavy leather apron tied tightly around his waist. The hammer held in a pose of striking metal.

“I was fifty in 2000 and now it’s 2012. ” What was I thinking? He didn’t want to know my age.


“Your cards are really exceptional today. I can’t believe you have the Ace of Wands right next to the Queen of Cups. That’s just the most beautiful sex combination; in fact you can’t get a better sex combination. Who are you seeing on the side? It must be fantastic. Let’s see Wands and Cups. You are going to meet a new love. He will be extremely attractive in a sexual way. Wow! This is really fantastic. I wish I could get cards like this. Whatever you do don’t ignore the meaning in these cards, girl. You are going to be one happy lady. Now let’s see what the next year will be.”



About bbcstudiowrites

This blog is me archiving the BBC Studio Writers Workshop.

Posted on March 28, 2012, in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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