I'm walking with Mary. I don't see her face because I'm looking at the ground as we walk, but I know it is Mary. The ground is a very rich brown -- almost reddish -- color. Here and there are holes in the ground. I don't warn Mary about these holes because I'm very busy pleading with her (crying at times?), begging her for forgiveness, telling her how sorry I am (about what? I don't know, asking forgiveness -- for what?). Once or twice she steps into, or barely misses, a hole.