I was on a beach, and a storm was coming up. There were many people with me. All were friends, but none of them were associated to me in reality. A storm was coming up, and everybody was scurrying for safety. It was a threatened storm of hurricane proportions. I ran, calling my little son (2) out of the water, and started up a long fire escape-like stairway leading up a cliff off of the beach carrying the boy. The fragile stairs were sagging and falling apart in pieces, and I kept crawling up and up, carrying my son. Then I was at the top, and the wind died down, and I was in a big house with more people (friends with no names), and I wondered where my father was. I was sure that he had been trapped on the beach and that the stairs were destroyed before he could get away. I ran to look, and when I got to the cliff he was just coming over the edge. I asked him how he did it, and he said it was easy.