I decide, somewhat hastily, to marry this Native American man. I don't know him very well, but I've always wanted a Native American man, so I do it. Jake and Valerie are late for the wedding; I wear a beautiful gown. There is an old boyfriend who comes and dances with me to some jazz music after the ceremony and we dance well. Then the husband tries to dance with me and he appears thin and awkward, but we dance anyway. I like him and hope this all works out. Now we lay down to make love; we are excited. The single hospital-like bed is near a huge window with no curtains and the double dutch door is opened. I think to the door to close, and the bottom half closes and two locks snap closed and I have trouble getting the top part closed. Then the kisses on my neck become huge bites of a monster leaving a huge, bloody wound. I don't want this and I refuse to accept the image and force it back to kisses and sexual enjoyment. He kisses my breasts and I feel very sexually pleasured. Now the time is up and I can return to the real world I had left, only if I do I can not return to this one and will lose the husband, who I like. I decide to stay with him. We sit on a couch and listen to jazz musicians. Another woman, another me, returns through a door and feels alone.