I was at home. I had to go see Lillian, a friend who lives nearby, whom I had not visited in a long time, in spite of living so close to her house. I felt that I had to go see her when I was told that Lillian was calling me. She was in bed, sick. I answered that I would see her at once, but she let me know that since her mother had to go out, she would not be home, but in a grocery store across the street from where she lives. When I found out about this, I felt no desire to see her, or rather I thought I would see her anyway, but I felt frustrated, as though my special interest had been to go see her at her home. The dream ended there. Lillian is a classmate of mine. I know her since high school. She is seventeen or eighteen years old.