I'm at my parents' as if there is some sort of gathering. There's a small room in the back of the house, like on the porch side of the red room, that seems newly discovered. In this room is a strange painting.

The painting is three-dimensional, full of round-headed cartoony people. Each face is a separate stone, and some are falling off.

I take a photo of it, scrape off all the stone pieces, take another photo, and then peel off the surface underneath. There's another picture under there, and under there, another one of these three-dimensional stone pictures of people, but their style is a noticeably different, like it was from an earlier era, and the previous picture was a re-making of it. I scrape off all the crumbling stone pieces from that one as well, and there is nothing else left, taking photos at each stage.

Then I feel bad because this was some sort of antique, and I may have permanently altered it for history. I have to admit to mom what I did, so I lead her back there and show her. I explain that I've taken pictures of every stage, and I think the previous states can be recreated by putting them back together like a puzzle. But still, I feel like I've damaged it from its original condition.

The party is over, it feels like a Sunday after a long vacation, and I don't want it to end, and go back to work.