Le chateau de vent

She has an outer appearance of calm and rest that makes you doubt her abilities. What exactly is she capable of? Men past forty like to think she's a bit backward. That she could have had it in her to build up a decent career, but she just so odd that nobody trusts her. Imagine working with that woman and finding out she's smarter than you thought. She might upset the whole planning. We all know how women are. Stubborn. So she just sits quietly, stares at their ties and shiny shaven faces. Fakes a smile once in a while. And eats. She tears apart the pieces of smoked salmon with sharp teeth. Unnoticed. In her mind she growls and claws like an animal fighting for food. Inside she is forcing her way through the thick undergrowth of the jungle. She paints her body with fat strokes of red clay. And in her restless mind, she screams about how meaningless it all is. Because inside she is earth, fire, water and air. Only that, all that.

When I recover my senses I feel pain shooting through my head. My eyes are hurting. There are no defined forms, only a haze of colour and light. I have the impression I’ve woken up but I might as well be dreaming. Disorientation is complete. "Exactement!" a voice says, very near. "You are dreaming. Since you were rather difficult to persuade, we decided to .. eh ...shuffle the cards, to change the setting so we could continue our conversation in a more suitable environment: a dream. You don’t mind do you?" The old mother’s voice has lost its softness. She doesn’t do any efforts to hide her annoyance and bitterness. I’m opening my mouth to comment, but she interrupts. "Let’s face it, Edith, you just never shut up." "But..." "You see, now, don’t try anything. I am in complete control. Your powers are useless. I am delighted to inform you that I can seal up that busy mouth of yours anytime now." I try to protest but it is useless. S...