I am in bed, lying down because I have a slight cold and I'm tired. I'd been working, paper work or learning French and had suddenly run out of energy. I'm laying on my tummy. Dan comes by. I am glad to see him but the timing isn't all that good. I get up and we go into the next room, a sort of living room (maybe a hotel). He's sympathetic and wants me to get well. Now I'm standing in front of a window and the devil himself comes to me through the window and bites and holds my right arm as I hold it straight out to the side. I am paralyzed with disgust, but I realize I must go through this to be better. It feels like something horrible, partly sexual, is possessing me and I stoically stand there and endure it. Finally, it is enough and I fall back on the floor, on my back. The devil is gone and I am relieved.