I was in desert-like place near a railroad. A ghost-town with old lumber unpainted and worn by blowing sand. One building like a small garage had sunken place in it, rats dived to the bottom like pit of doodlebugs enlarged and squirmed just below the sand. I threw small rocks and gravel to get them up so I could kill them. Suddenly, water rose and a small shower inside the shack--like rain inside the car in the George Burns movie O God. I went outside to see if rats had run away. None. I walked to railroad platform and white rope separating people from station employees had just broken. A friend and boss of mine at railroad repaired it, the way cable is spliced: rope overlapped and U-bolt tightened. I praised him too much I felt; he looked at me oddly for excessive language for small act.