No floor, and situated in the hills, in the middle of some path.
Got to have food in my dreams

I've woken up. There's a guest sleeping in another bed. I move to my side of the room. Yikes, what a horrible room this is. It's old and badly maintained. Good thing I'll be leaving tonight, on a plane.

I look at the outside wall. Part of it is missing, part of it has been badly repaired. Some board has been fitted on to cover the missing part of the wall, but it has rotten away. I wish my dad was around. He would have fixed this.

Let's move out. I'm in the hallway. There are no doors, but I can leave through panel in the floor. Which has been covered up by wood and a carpet. I have to first create access to that panel.

I notice there's a door on my left now. There's also mail on a chest against the wall. I check what it is. Looks like magazine subscriptions. I open a few things.

I find myself inside the room behind the door, with the chest now in that room. The woman living in this room stands next to me. She reminds me of Jean, but someone else. Perhaps Martha? I don't know. She asks whether I had breakfast. There may be some back in the hall. Oh, I could look.

She's making breakfast. Would I like to have some. Sure. I half notice the shift from breakfast in the hall (disappeared) to breakfast in the room, but let it go.

I walk through the room. The room now stands freely in the outdoors, with glass walls all around. I see hills all around. A young man walks around, says I should have some breakfast. He hands me a sandwich with ham. Do I look that hungry? I take it.

I look from the front of the room, holding my sandwich. Hills. And some footsteps straight towards this room.

I look from the back of the wall. Hills. And again footsteps and also trails leading in and out of the room, as if they're no walls and we just landed this room on top of the ground here. That is not possible. I look closer. Now it's even much stronger. I ask the young man. He laughs. He doesn't understand it either.

On the practical level, as much as my father loved building and construction work, he would not have fixed this. The mess of the first room was beyond fixing.

That first room also had no windows.

The glass version of the second room seems to be imposed over an outdoors terrain. Again no doors or windows, in the sense of there's nothing that would let people in or out. Yet there's also a strong sense that it doesn't matter. We can get in and out easily.


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