I was in the grocery store doing my weekly shopping and I had gotten to the checkout counter. And there was a little orange cat in the store and it was supposed to be very dearly loved by some group of policemen in another city, mascot or something, but here the police didn't like it and there was a policeman who was trying to catch it. It was running under the checkout counter. The little cat was hiding and the policeman was bending down to get it. I went over and told the cat to bite the policeman, but the cat didn't and the policeman picked it up and walked out with it and I thought the policeman would say something nasty to me because I had told the cat to bite him, but he didn't say anything. So I went back around, and this checkout girl who was checking out my groceries and the girl at the counter beyond that were in sympathy with the cat too and the people who owned it and I was in sympathy with it too. We thought that they were going to try this cat and put it in jail. It seemed sort of silly, but that's what was going to happen. So we were all going to write postcards to the higher court or something telling them what we thought about the case. So the girl at my checkout counter had some postcards that were sort of form postcards for this sort of thing because they had several questions to answer briefly. It would seem to be sort of unusual questions for this sort of thing because, for instance, one asked if the tires on your car were worn and another one asked what made you different from the people who are writing in postcards about this thing. I said we the people who wrote in had more concern for others than the people who didn't, but I finally did finish filling out the postcard and then I wrote a check for my groceries, and went out to the car and my mother and my older brother and my sister and my daughter were all waiting there in the car for me. My mother had brought me to think I made them wait for hours and hours. I was quite sorry about it, but we all got in the car and mother started driving. She just drove real recklessly and it was really very upsetting, pulled out into the car where all these cars were zipping along at about 60 and she just pulled out and we went so slow she had to stop and start over again. Meanwhile all these cars piled up around her and almost ran into her and lots of them had to run off the road because they were going so fast. She didn't particularly care to be rebuked about it. She didn't think there was anything particularly wrong about the way she was driving. We were starting to drive thru this very small town when I was sort of a car and sort of a horse, more of a horse, and I was sort of just pretending to be one which was very strange. But at any rate I was going thru this very small town. I was cantering along when I met this sign that said all horses must proceed at a trot so I slowed down to a trot and stopped at several stop lights. Finally came into a little narrow corridor. This whole town was famous for its antiques. There were lots of antiques along the streets before, but now I was in this little house which displayed all sorts of them, part of the town and part of the main street. I trotted along slowly looking at them and turned the corner and went down this narrow little hall, turned again, and there was this sign saying you are now leaving this park, Hallborough. And so I was back out in the open again. That was about the end of that dream. Hallborough, which is next to my university town, is about the most unhistoric place you can think of. The most uninteresting of anything. The little town of Millsborough which is a little ways away would be a much better place for this thing.