There's a pool or stream and a little fish is in it. I lean over to see the fish and I suddenly rear back because a huge goldfish comes up out of the water, toward me. He's as big as I am! I go uphill to get out of the way. He might bite me. Now I'm seated at a table and Howard and Bob H are looking at me. Howard says, "Look at her eyes, her face. She's getting an idea." They watch as I sit and stare off into space, my eyes in REM. They come over to me and watch as I start righting (writing) my notes, an outline: 1) Research of project, 2) get examples of what's currently out there. Bob agrees with me that we must gather all the leading communications skills programs used in schools and see what's there and then create a better one. I look at Howard's face and feel sad because I can see he's different (his eyes are different), but I still have the old automatic disgust and anger. I feel badly that I can't seem to respond to him differently now (see poem in Dream poem directory).