I was with my lesbian friends having a good time in Cardiff. We were in the street. I had a silver suitcase.
I was doing a green painting.
Then they said they were going to the chapel to see R renew her wedding vows. I said I wouldn’t be welcome and walked off, flooded with emotions and memories, leaving the suitcase in the street. I walked and walked. I didn’t even know they knew her.
I ended up in the Norwegian Church. I realised that they were all there and that was where the renewal was. I was sat down talking to a guy and to my right, there she was, sat down, in a group of people. Her husband was sat next to her in a seat slightly above. (Amphitheatre style benches.) I realised she had seen me. They looked disjointed as a couple.
I rejoined my group of friends and she came over. We were sat down on the floor and she was stood up, talking. She was drunk, and uglier than I’d expected. My friends said “Oh yes, she gets like this all the time, we go out and she’s telling us to drink up quicker, especially when she said her marriage was on the rocks.” I said “That’s hardly surprising what with her being a lesbian.”
Then my friends and I were in the toilets, I was in a cubicle, a friend in another. Someone threw some blood-stained toilet paper over the door and said “It’s ok, there’s no-one in there.” I wasn’t weeing, just hanging out in the toilet, and I jumped up on the toilet seat to look over the door and said “Hey I’m in here” and we laughed. I realised she was in the toilet as well and she left as I jumped up.
Then I decided to properly leave. She saw me leaving in my underwear, looking good I thought.
It was on my mind that my suitcase and wallet was still in the street. But I had another silver suitcase (the first one was plastic, this was more material-ey) with some other clothes in, and I went to San Francisco alone.
I was painting in this long street
on a hill, in a built-up area with lots of side streets. I did a green painting. There were several men who were very friendly and gave me tips on the best place in the street, and shortcuts. I thanked them and said I was only there for today. I had a brown painting on an easel, and one of them picked up a pen and wrote the name of a woman on my painting.
My friends had also arrived in San Francisco and were getting a helicopter back. I was too, with my second suitcase, but then I decided to go on the bus instead, and leave them to take my suitcase.
I went back to the long street and the helpful guys helped me to dry my boots, I had water in them.
Then I went back. When I got home, I went to a bar and said “I left my silver suitcase here.” The guy said “Yes, it’s in the toilet.”
The sign for the toilets had a line through it and I realised they were downstairs and someone was painting the stairs black, so they were all wet with paint. I managed to walk down them being careful not to damage the paintwork and retrieved my suitcase and left. The guys on the door smirked in a friendly way. I had a large paper cup of water, filled to the brim and was sipping it. “Got enough water there?” one said jokingly. I had a couple of sips and threw the cup on the floor. I didn’t realise the guy had seen me. He wasn’t best pleased and said “Hey, pick that up.”
I walked home through the yellow grassy fields back to the street where I’d left the suitcase and there was my half-done painting, with blobs of dull green paint, dried, covering the paintbrush.
N.B. I don’t know why the first suitcase was in the bar, not the street. But I was very relieved to have them both back and nothing missing.