I'm with a man and a woman comes up and says, "Wow! He's good looking." I hadn't noticed before. So the woman flirts with him and seduces him. There's a huge glass window and a rotating oval curtain. They are behind the curtain (see drawing) and so I follow to spy on them, but they decide to make love on the floor while hidden by the curtains and that upsets me and makes me mad. I stomp away and go to the car. He's written a note on the blackboard saying the keys are in the car, he'll join me later (he works for me). I'm pissed now and get into the low slung Jaguar sports car and throw it into low gear and rev up the motor and peel out. The motor whines and I shift gears, squealing tires as I pass a window. I know he'll hear my anger. I drive the freeway behind trucks and turn off a dirt road that ends up at a cottage that looks ordinary on the outside. I go in and see how lovely and luxurious it is on the inside - fireplaces, solitude and quiet. There is a picture window where I stare out on the crashing waves on the rocky cliff below. It seems the water's rising up, and I remind myself that it has never come to the house, even at the worst high tides. I then go to the kitchen to see if there's any food (the young man was supposed to have it ready for me). I open the freezer - two ice cubes. "Empty!" I say righteously. I open the refrigerator. There are a few jars of applesauce and some cheese. A woman says, "Here, I found a specialty meat. You like those." So we won't starve, but I'm still mad at him. I go in and play the piano with my daughter and Charla. It's a silly child's tune and I make up words about how mad I am at this guy, and then he and Robert Redford come in the door.