In Brighton, in front of the train station.
I step out of a car? A bus? A black cat gets out too - it is a friend's cat. I certainly have some connection to it. I am suddenly concerned for the cat. Afraid it might get run over. It races up the street, toward the sea.
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I am showing Sarah Chamberlain the stairway of the house where I live. The stairway is ornate and Victorian. I am very proud of it. I am showing her via some kind of camera / computer, controlling the viewpoint though some remote means. I see beyond the bannisters, my room in the distance of the landing. It is less impressive.
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Sarah W is crying and upset. I am stood on an 'upper level' - perhaps some stairs? Sarah is outside. I am looking down on her. Sarah seems to be in some kind of garden. There is a washing line behind her. I am afraid that it is me who has upset her. She says that she feels she has no 'get-up and go' any more.
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