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Death by elevator, Shakespeare, woods, brink of hope

1. I'm having a paranoid dream, but it's kind of fun in a cinematic 007 style. There are teams of thugs out to get me. I've wandered into an urban trap and there's no way I'm getting out alive. All that's left for me is to choose which particular way I'm gonna die. As the net is closing tighter I get to a hotel lobby: I see the staircase has a railing down the middle but the whole right side is blocked by one of these guys standing there, really obese, waiting. So I step into an elevator instead along with a handful of bystanders who have no idea what's going on.

As we rise, I've already surrendered to my imminent fate. I start to tell a 'fairytale': "Once upon a time there were three courtiers who were so very grateful for everything they had been given..." I am feeling real gratitude, too.

The elevator cable (unsurprisingly to me) snaps. We're plummeting, accelerating. There's a couple of seconds of screamy pandemonium! Then all my fellow passengers faint, mercifully. Before we hit bottom, the feeling becomes way too intense, so I close my eyes and melt awake.

2. Back asleep again, I'm listening to some Shakespearean talk atop a ridge, overlooking a lovely green landscape of rolling British hills, with the woods behind us. A couple of gentlemen in period costume are chortling. Some good natured Falstaffian ribaldry, then the conversation turns to serious politics and a discussion about an aristocratic lad named Gibson...

3. Modern day. I'm taking a long afternoon walk with an American female friend who seems quite familiar to me. We've walked away from a group, and strolled down a very long hill. At the bottom, she is all set to turn and start right back up again.

"I don't know about you," I say, "but I'm in no hurry. I'm going to sit down here and relax for a while."

So we do. It's a rough, scrabbly field. We get into an extended heart-to-heart chat. There's some unrequited chemistry between us, but she's not going to go there. She tells me how she'd always viewed me, or my cock at least, as taken. (And it is.)

Then she says something odd about a woman whom we both know; I'm not sure if it's my mother, or an ex. "She said about you that you're someone that's on the brink of hope." I am not sure what that means...

This scene fades into an image of a couple of pup tents on a soft lawn by a beautiful stream, in front of a forest.

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