I'm at a camp, like a summer camp, staying with strangers in a cabin. It's in another country, I think New Zealand, and I wonder about the wisdom of taking most of my vacation time at this camp, but I note that I do get to experience the nature of the country.

This night is the final burial of my friend Wade (who died in real life nearly a year ago). A group of people comes down the hill bearing a casket. Among them is our mutual friend Angus, but he doesn't notice me. I follow him a bit and then call out to him. He didn't recognize me because I grew a beard, and maybe I'm wearing a mask. I say he looks different too, his hair is like a stylish teenager, short and feathered.

I go back to my cabin, which is at the lower end of a long row of similar rooms, to change into something more appropriate for the funeral. I have a black shirt and black pants, but I probably shouldn't wear all black, I should just choose one or the other.

The light in the cabin is dim, coming from a couple of weak sources, light night-lights. There are bedclothes strewn about, but I notice, no personal items of the other residents. I wonder if anybody else is even staying here.