I'm in a big bed and Mabel and I are all scrunched up on one edge. A big pillow is blocking us; my leg is hanging over the edge. I'm uncomfortable and about ready to fall. The pillow is my writing. I change to the other side of the bed and the pillow is there too. Then I am standing at the foot of the bed madly writing on an easel, nonsense words. I want to stop and rest but I am driven to write.