I was going swimming with my husband and several other people in an indoor pool. It was some sort of a class; we were supposed to learn a technique I read about to keep from drowning in emergencies. The pool seemed to get smaller and smaller and too many people were in it, so I couldn't practice. Then the session was over and I went to get dressed again; another group (all girls; except for me, the first one had been male) was getting ready to go for their session. I had on my daughter's bathing suit under mine; it had faded red all over me. I went out after dressing; outside the building was the ocean, and there was a storm; it was all around us; we were on some sort of a pier; toward land was a road or railroad track, and in the dusk it looked as if green water were continually streaming down the bank; we finally saw that it was several large panes of glass leaning against it. Across the water some distance away was another building where a swimming class was being held. My daughter came out, with another child in her arms, and started crossing the water toward us. There was no way she could hear us call to go back over the sound of the water, so we waited, afraid for her to get to us. In spite of the storm and deep water, she made it, and I ran down to the end of the pier to help her up. She and the little child she was helping were almost the same size. I picked them up in my arms and carried them inside and started looking for towels and things to wrap them in to keep them warm.