THE CREATIONIST

I dreamt was in  Susannah’s house. I also knew she had only just died. She took me by the hand and led me upstairs into her roof but instead of a wooden floor, clear glass had been laid down. She explained that this was for extra storage but the glass seemed thin and sloped upwards. It looked too precarious to walk on and she saw I was afraid. She said, “don’t worry it’s safe. Take my hand.”

We walked up and she stooped down, opening this large wooden trunk. She showed me the most exquisite microscopic slides, holding them up to the light. Only they weren’t small. They were more like huge lantern slides. Their shapes were really simple. They looked like Amoebas set into amber. But there was this one,  this was different. It was moving, it’s white arms were reaching out, searching itself against an iridescent blue background. I looked up at it through the light and it’s  shapes and its movement was mesmeric.

There was this pang of jealousy, why is it she’s always so lucky? She’s got all this wonderful material. Susannah, ‘The Creationist’ will make a huge and wonderful exhibition. Perhaps, one last time, we can collaborate together? Hers will be about birth and mine will be on death. Alpha to Omega: The beginning to the end.