A party. At somebody's expensive looking house. It is connected in some way with poetry. Jennifer is there, making the party go round. I realize somehow, when everyone has gone home, that Laura is asleep in the next room. The heating element on the stove, the coil part, begins to burn like a fuse, and I know that if I let it burn to the center ("the transistor", I call it in my dream) it will explode and kill us. I try to drag Laura out of the house, frantically pulling and shouting at her to wake up. I wake up, instead.