I’m running a convention centre (or in charge of managing one, for now). A professional woman I know is looking for rooms for an annual exhibition. She heads an organisation involving animal research: she and her researchers host an island of rats, whose conditions can be perfectly controlled.... and they are looking for rooms to present their research.



The rooms are a little dilapidated, but suitable. There’s an elevator within it, too, for bringing the exhibits up directly from the basement car-park. This is great for her as it minimises the exhibited animal's stress.



During the course of chatting with this woman, she reveals an interest in taking my kitten to her island for a new experiment. I’m very attached to my kitten, but offer it to her ‘on trial’.

Once my kitten is on the (very green, very lush) island, 

I immerse myself in it's consciousness, looking out from it's cat’s eye view onto the island. I’m peeking from behind a stand of rushes next to a lake. Suddenly a huge creature rears up above me: a giant rat! But no.... it's onlt the kitten who sees it as a 'giant' rat. I realise it's a normal-sized rat, seen from a kittens perspective. And then another and another and another appear above me, all sharp teeth and quivering whiskers: my perspective then moves to an overhead view and I see a multitude of rats rushing at the kitten from all directions as the rats communicate (telepathy?) with each other about the cat’s arrival. Trauma ensues, but the kitten survives...



.... and then I am soothing my kitten in my home and the kitten has become my son, who is now a lad of about 10. I am kneeling in front of him helping him to do up his red braces (very early 19th century clothes). He’s visibly shaken and exhausted. We’re talking about the experience he’s had and he is telling me he thinks he could give it a longer go, if necessary. I think he's courageous. I'm moved and impressed by his strength.