I'm packing up from camping, but my site is at my parents' house, in the parlor. Some other people, I think my brothers, are packing up too. I pack up my usual hiking equipment, and then there is all this other strange stuff to pack up, which I wouldn't usually carry hiking. I think it makes a bed, but it's all pieces now, heavy black iron bars and corners and connectors. It's too much to pick up, because I have to go to work, so I leave it there for the day.

In the evening I'm in Raleigh Hills, waiting for a bus. Several pass, but they won't stop because they are full. I and the other people waiting are jumping out in front of the buses to get them to stop, but they keep careening by.

I give up and start walking back toward my house to get my truck. There is a girl who was also trying to get on the bus, now looking lost and aimless. I tell her I'm going to get my truck, and ask her if I can take her somewhere. She answers that she's going to Newberg, and I say great, that's exactly where I'm going (to pick up the rest of my camping stuff). So we walk off toward my house.

I get there, and the inside is like my Garden Home Road house. I go into the master bedroom, and it is strangely clear of most things. Natasha was living there with me, and she's moved herself into the second bedroom nearby. I'm tired, and I lie down, but I get uncomfortable because the bed I've been left with is very narrow and hard, a single bed made out of pipes (rather like those pieces I was packing up from camping, but lighter in both weight and color). I awaken uncomfortable, then cast it off and sleep on the floor.