IT WAS THE LAST DAY OF A JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES CONVENTION. I was helping pack up furniture in one of the administration rooms. Then the room morphed into a school classroom. Some of the furniture was mine—a desk and a sideboard.
There was a large fish tank. A little boy was watching the goldfish. I picked him up and let him see them from the top.
A teenage boy was taking my desk apart. He broke all the dowels that held it together. I was annoyed at him.
A teenage girl was writing on the blackboard with chalk. She was trying to write in calligraphy. The teacher showed her how to do it but she couldn’t copy the teacher’s writing. I said I could show her how. She laughed at me. “What?” I said, “You don’t think I can do calligraphy?” and then proceeded to show her how to write the word “yue”, which happens to be the Chinese word for “moon” or “month”.
I was looking through a waste paper bin. There were some bolts in the bin that belonged to my furniture. I transported my desk and sideboard home to my childhood bedroom and put them back together again. Then I realised I already had a desk in my room. The room was too small for another desk and a sideboard.
I went downstairs and tried to enter the living room but a group of people were in there learning how to meditate.
I was at another convention of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I was in a small room. The brothers and sisters were complaining how the previous day had been uncomfortable due to the attendants allowing too many people into the room. One of the attendants, an elderly brother with grey hair, was about to do the same thing again so I stood up and said “No! It’s not happening.” The attendant was upset, but I insisted. Then I went to the attendant’s office and told the overseer what I thought. He wasn’t happy with me and said I was a troublemaker. I said I didn’t care. I went back to the room and the brothers and sisters thanked me for speaking up for them.
A young sister had left the convention site and gone to a second site across town. She had left her Bible and notebook behind. I got on a child’s tricycle and pedaled to where she was. I gave her the Bible and notebook and then pedaled back to the main convention.
I found myself in a room with glass walls. A mother and her teenage daughter were in the room. They seemed upset with me, angry even. I left the glass room and returned to the small room I was in earlier. The attendants had squeezed a few more people into the room and people were complaining it was now too cramped.