I'm in a foreign city with my brother Steve, returning to our "home base", which appears to be an apartment on a very high floor of a tall building. We're climbing in from the outside, as if on a ladder; the whole wall is open. As I'm making the last step up into the apartment I consider making a joke like I'm slipping and might fall, but it seems too cruel. It would be a long fall.

Then we discuss what to do next. It seems like it's the early evening of my last day in this country, and Steve either lives here or is very familiar with it. He can't think of anything to do really, and I'm suggesting going out to the night markets to shop.

I go to the fridge to pick out a drink. It seems like I already drank one small box of wine, and there are a few more of those in there. But I decide not to drink another one; that would be my limit for the day, and maybe I'll want to have one later when we come back. Anyway I'm kind of tired, so I ask Steve if I can make some black tea or something with caffeine.