Afternoon Dust

false memories

In The Future They Ate From The Finest Porcelain

I’m in a darkened space, watching actors in another darkened space act out dreams and memories. I hear a conversation between a woman and her therapist: the woman describes a dream in which porcelain plates rain from the sky, at first floating gently like leaves but gradually falling harder and harder, until she is cowering beneath a deluge of porcelain. She also discusses her younger sister, who was violently killed at the age of nine by unnamed ruling forces, and who sometimes still appears to her in her dreams. On screen, I see two girls in what looks, to my untrained eye, like traditional Middle Eastern dress; the older girl reaches out to the younger, who turns away.