A dream

Caught in a dream

"Be quiet Judith Collins. You'll bring me down too!"

My partner woke this morning from a dream. Here it is - 

I am walking in a crowded street with friends, possibly in Christchurch.

The atmosphere is positive and celebratory.

I turn my head to see John Key unexpectedly at my shoulder. Radiating joviality, he addresses the crowd.

His tone is wooing, pleasing.

As I listen, I realise with a jolt of recognition that he is in fact merely moving his lips, but not saying anything. In fact his mouth and the words coming out of it do not, and cannot possibly match. It is as if “the voice” is being broadcast from a speaker hidden in his chest or suspended in front of him.

I’m so stunned by this realisation that I lose track of my friends. I leave the scene to find them.

As I turn to leave, I notice that John Key’s face has metamorphosed from a shiny, jocular mask to that of a much older man, slack pale skin and quite a different bone structure – as though he was, in fact, only ever a puppet.