Drama in the Bedroom

4 May 2019

A few nights ago we had the mother of all thunderstorms.

At first, I woke up and listened to the soothing patter of rain on the roof. How wonderful. What a relief. Man and beast—and garden—have been waiting for this godsend for weeks.

Gosh, I thought, the rain’s getting heavier, in fact, it sounds like it’s coming down in cascades. And then, at 4 a.m., I sat bolt upright in bed and turned on the light.

At the far end of my room there was a veritable Trevi Fountain! My air conditioner above the window had turned into a gargoyle, spewing water in all directions. The wall was awash, just like the waterwall at the entrance to the National Gallery of Victoria.

Like a flash of lightning I flew out of bed and started to pull out the rugs, sofa, bookshelf… and then my electricity blew a fuse and I stood in the dark in my nightie, bare feet slithering about in the wet.

I mopped up as best I could by the light of my mobile phone and went back to bed. What else could I do in complete darkness?

All sorted now; the electricity is back on. My ceiling is made of pine boards from the 1860s. Had it been modern plasterboard, it would have crashed down on me.

Today’s image of a sleepwalker is as serene as I was tousled and chaotic.

 

The Sleepwalker
40 cm x 80 cm, in an ornate silver frame
$ 2,200

May all your dreams be dry ones!

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