The Cult in a Cave

I’m walking home from work. It’s raining. I step into a cave to fix my watch. Inside the cave is a men’s toilet. In this, women lay on double beds. One is talking to an Asian man, who is trying to engage her in a relationship. She chats to him and listens, but it’s all a game. I sit in a chair and listen. Other women use drugs and watch TV. I sit and listen. 
The first woman asks us to leave, as a man has arrived. A pimp, or cult leader, I’m not sure which. I gather my things and leave what is now a house, noticing that I have picked up the wrong jacket from work. Outside, I clean a giant, dusty, iPad, and organise icons on its screen. I wonder why the police don’t do something about a house full of heroin addicts, in a house cave, not far from my house. 
I’ve forgotten something. A bag. I go back to get it. The house is unlocked. Inside, I try to find my bag. I’m tempted to search for clues to what kind of place this is, but decide it’s not my business, and leave, noticing a library of pulp sci-fi as I leave. 
On the doorstep, the women are returning from a run. Some are smoking and drinking. I try to leave, but my friend S is there, and suggests I go inside and listen to what they have to say. I go in, and sit down, welcomed by a large friendly Alsatian from another dream. 
A large room. Many old sofas. People smoke, and drink, and inject themselves. An older woman asks about my debts. S assures me this is ok. She writes sine questions on a piece of paper. She speaks, her voice lost in the general chatter. 
Sat next to me, a junky with a cat asks if I liked being stoned. The answer was, yes, I had enjoyed it, but I don’t do that any more. People leave. I pick up the paper with the questions on. There’s little space to write an answer. There a question about how much I owe to US TV. I answer ‘none’, and another about general debt. I can’t even begin to guess. 
S is still sat there. A woman comes back in, and starts questioning me.

She looks at the questions, and hands me a clear plastic box full of money. S tells me they are a community, they just want to help. I’m very suspicious, hypervigilant. 
She inspects my teeth with pliers. She asks how many teeth I have, hurting me with the pliers. I say about 19. She’s starting to hurt me. I stand up, and grab a shovel. I try to get the handle under her chin. She dances around smiling. It’s all games. It’s all mind games. I get the handle under her chin and wedge her against a door. She’s surprised by the speed I move. I tell her not to mess with me. She has no idea who I am or what I’ve been through. 
She leaves the room, shouting to the others ‘violence, anger and violence are his weaknesses’. 


What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s