I am in a room on the 3rd or 4th floor of a building. The room is bright and tidy. It has the feel of a hospital room, or perhaps where I used to work at the call centre. It is sunny outside. I look down at the sea, and have an urge to fling myself out of the window, not because I am feeling suicidal, but because this is what sometimes happens when you are on the edge of a precipice. Sarah is in the room with me. I hold two black seeds in my hand. I back away from the window, slightly panicky, and think about telling Sarah that she will not see me the next day, which in the dream is a Friday, because I need some time to myself. I then think that I shall just disappear for 24 hours.
I wake up, wrenching myself out of sleep with a panicky lurch.
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