Purple dreamt as the Toyota rumbled through the desert

Purple dreamt as the Toyota rumbled through the desert, the stumbling and jostling of the car over the inclines and ditches, of women and men in baggy khakis, beret's and boots with their arms interlinked , moving in time to a throbbing backbeat with crazed keyboard patterns which ascended and descended with pentatonic accuracy. Though the dancers seemed to be celebrating something, perhaps a minor victory or a revolution, they were curiously stony faced as if this were no more than an acting out of ritual than an expression of fervor. 'They made a desert and call it peace.' They danced beneath a red, green and white flag flanked by a yellow sun which was planted on the crest of an overhanging ledge, and the bodies of the dead wrapped in white sheets were arranged in rows. The bodies were headless, or rather, they had heads but they did not belong to the bodies as the enemy, in a final act of spite and indignity had swapped the heads so that the beloved could not be identified.
In her dream, Purple saw these young men and women fighting for their pasts and their futures yet the were not fighting for a state, they were fighting for the idea of a community which was borderless. Where ever the peoples could be found, a new piece of common imagination was staked and declared as ours. In this way, there were 5000km of foreign territories, mountains and lakes separating the capital from its eastern most extent.
These people were fighting a common enemy, yet their allies facilitated the existence of enemy and corridors were left open for them to go as they please.

With a jolt, the Toyota stopped, Purple opened her eyes and as her vision cleared, she did not see the a boat or an ocean. Instead, she was confronted by those same, soft young faces she had seen in her dream, with their hands cupped around their eyes looking through the windows of the car. She smiled as she as she recognized their faces and pushed through to embrace her sisters.