I'm getting on an airplane, and sitting next to a pretty dark-haired girl. Once the plane takes off, I fall asleep almost immediately.

I awaken suddenly, surprised to see the plane buzzing between huge tree limbs, so huge they seem like something from a dinosaur movie, though it occurs to me that they just look big because they're so close, and I'm not used to seeiing them from inside a careening airplane. The pilot is deftly manuevering around and between them, at one point tilting the airplane at just the right angle to squeeze through the only available space.

It seems for a moment we pull into clear space, then we are buzzing through a neighborhood, dodging poles and houses. I look at the pilot, who seems to have red watery eyes, and is smoking. Having the pilot smoking on the plane seems unusual, and a bad sign.

The left wing hits a telephone pole, in my clear view, and the wing twists so that it presents a vertical surface to the wind. The pilot mutters "well, that's it, we're done for", and some technical words about wind resistance.

I don't remember the plane crashing but it ends up dumping all the passengers into the ocean. I am on the beach, watching the survivors swim with flotation devices and walk up onto the beach. Misha has come to pick me up, and also found her way to the beach. I greet her, and tell her I'm ok, and Steve's ok. But then I say no, what am I saying, Steve is missing and I don't know where he is or if he made it.

I go back to the plane, which is apparently still intact somewhere nearby, to collect some belongings. As I climb the long stairs into the plane, I meet a couple of boys who are exploring the ruins, apparently insiders, so I ask them what was going on. They say "Oh, we're Muslims, we just wanted to kill a lot of Americans."