Test and party

Date: 5/14/2018

I am doing a test. I am ready to hand in my paper which is covered in my almost illegible scrawl working out the answers when I see a teacher in the corner surreptitiously giving a couple a sheet of paper with numbers written on. I realise it’s a multiple choice test. Of course, we’re in the States! But I didn’t get the multiple choice sheet. I start trying to make sense of my test paper, by underlining the answers and give up. I explain the situation to the teacher, showing him my scrawled test paper, I ask if I can fill in the answers from his crib sheet as we’re running out of time. He’s reluctant at first, but takes pity on me when I tell him about the missing sheet. He gives me the crib sheet with the numbers in pencil and says, “don’t make it too obvious”. “Oh,” I say, “don’t worry, I’ll get at least 6 to 8 questions wrong”. “It doesn’t have to be that many,” he says. I’m at a party. Somebody is explaining the composition of some pieces of wood. I bond with a chap looking at some pale coloured distressed wood samples. He tells me he uses a lot of this in his house. He’s got dark hair, slim build and is not too tall. I like him and we start to hang out together. In the building there are animals in a private zoo. The large sliding glass door is open. I wander into the room, totally in awe of what I’m seeing. It has very high ceilings, and I can see the light coming in through a skylight. There are rows of chattering birds, perched up high or flying around, and little low lying mammals with sharp teeth (stoats? Ferrets?) scuttling around through the mulch. There’s a musty smell, but it’s not unpleasant. I’m amazed that the animals don’t try to escape through the open door, but they seem content to be contained. The stoats even go quite close to the door but never run out. I wonder idly if there’s some kind of force field. I tell my beau that if it had been Halley, she would have bolted out of there in a nanosecond. We walk carefully up to the next level trying not to step on the little scurrying mammals. My ankle hurts and I wonder if I have been bitten. Some grand ladies decide to leave, one of them is the actress who plays Diane Lockhart from Good Wife. They half pull the door behind them, but her long coat gets stuck in door grooves. I’m tempted to run up to help them free the coat, but something holds me back. I just watch. We are now holding hands. We walk into a busy bar, buzzing with people. I go to get us a drink. As I order an orange and lemonade and a Diet Coke, I realise I don’t have my purse, when he comes up behind me and quietly slips my red wallet into my hand. So thoughtful of him! I like him even more. I pay and wait for the change, but the cashier disappears. I wait by the till, should I just abandon getting my money? The drinks were only £6.40 and I gave him a tenner. A man in a black shirt comes past, I wonder whether he’s staff. Before I can ask him, I see he’s looking at something in the middle of the floor. It’s pulsating then starts to unfurl. I can barely see it. As my eyes adjust to the dark I see it’s the top half of a huge robotic being, embedded in the floor, it smiles happily at me. I’m back with my beau at the table with our drinks, my hand on his leg. We nuzzle. Could he be the one? “You must come to Bafta with me some day”, I murmur into his ear. He looks reluctant. “I’m not sure,” he says, “I don’t like the fact that they make everything about shock these days”. I’m disappointed. “It’s not all horror films”, I say.