The Artist, Ch. 9

The next night at the camp she dreamt she was back in her hometown near the intersection of South Grand and 11th Street.

But the area had changed.

There were more people and more buildings than she remembered. 

She wished she had purchased some of the surrounding property before all the new people had moved in.

She was in a wine bar with her friend Jake.

Jake owned the place.

He bought property before everyone else and had made a killing. 

Then she was outside in the street.

There were street performers everywhere

and hippies.

Some of the performers were riding unicycles and juggling.

Some were grooving with hula hoops. 

A large brown black dog with gaping jaws left one of the performers and approached her. 

It jumped up on her enthusiastically putting its paws up below her chest.


Perhaps too enthusiastically, for it would not leave.


She became nervous, conflicted


She knew the  would be loyal and would not leave her side.


But there was something menacing about it as well which left her unsettled.

Its physical presence with her was too strong--it could overpower her.

She hurried back into the building with the wine bar and ran upstairs.

She shut the door behind her preventing the dog from following her.

"Oh, its just your fear of commitment," commented the tattooed woman.

Then she had various sexual intrigues with the  poly amorous sister of one of her lesbian friends.

She woke to the sound of a guitar playing.

(chicago, skokie, lula's brunch, back at it in the morning)