I am in a writing class. It is the end of the term and I am packing my stuff away, but wondering if I should keep some of my things there for next term; only will we use the same room? But it's a lot of stuff to carry away. I decide to take it and I go to my new home, which is an isolated spot far from anyone. I have a door and a room, but somehow no walls on the back side of the room. Or if there is a wall, it is miles away with black emptiness there. There is one more room and I look in it, but it belongs to someone else. I look out a window and the barren fields go forever. I move in the two or three jukebox-like machines with neon tube lights all over them. A man I like comes to the door and I invite him in. I show him the place and we look out the window and see a another large window out there with my different arrowheads and artifacts lined up in a row. I point to one and say, "It's the turtle man design," The man I like finds them all strange and kind of laughs at me, but then there are three other men there, bad men. One is a 400-pound Sumo wrestler type and one is the boss, named Larry. Larry tells the wrestler to get me. I fight him off, punching and trying to kick his balls, but I don't try hard enough and he's going to kill me, so I tell him or maybe I told the man I like earlier that I had karate to protect me. I move into an all-out kill-or-be-killed mode and nail him good. I am furious with Larry and tell him I will never write for him again. He had put me in jeopardy. He laughs and then leans up against the window, and at that moment the nuclear whatever that was out there explodes and he is crisped. I remember the startled look on his face as he realized he was about to die. I run to the door jamb and stand there, and supposedly this protects me enough that they all die, but I live. But I don't completely believe it even in the dream because with that massive a nuclear explosion so close, I couldn't survive.