My friend Mark and I are at the top of a mountain, at a cabin. We climbed the mountain, and then we're staying the night before making the return journey.

We're talking to our hosts, a married couple, they sort of offhandly invite us to their other cabin, at a beach or somewhere. The woman happens to be standing sort of above me (I think I'm working in my pack or something), and the collar of her shirt is skewed such that I can see one of her nipples. It seems accidental. I politely decline the cabin invitation.

When we have a moment alone, Mark chides me for not accepting the cabin offer, saying that it was a good opportunity to exchange contact details with the woman, and anyway the cabin sounded cool. So as we're packing to leave, I dig a business card out of my wallet to give her. The first one I find is somehow unsatisfactory; it has something written on the back, or is water-damaged, so I'm holding it but looking for another. Mark and the girl are confused, and I explain that this is a good business card but I think I have a better one.

Mark heads out as I'm assembling my pack. I'm having some trouble organizing all the things. This should be an easy snow descent; don't need axe, just poles. Where are my mittens? I can't find them, just my thin gloves. Maybe they are good enough. Yet there is stuff strewn about, more things to stick in my pack.

My pack turns into a car that I'm packing, a big yellow sport-utility van that apparently belongs to me. I'm hurrying, because Mark already took off, and I'm not sure if he headed down the mountain. We need to travel together for safety reasons, and it would be difficult for me to catch up, and impossible for him to wait in the cold.

I finish packing and drive the van outside. Mark is out there with no pants on, for some reason, and he's kind of mad at me for taking so long. I try to explain to him that for some reason, the way the math worked out, our car is up here. So we either have to drive it back down to the bottom of the mountain and climb back up and back down, or hitch a ride back to the top, or just drive home and call it good.

Meanwhile I drive around the area of the cabin, which is sort of a mountaintop resort, but there's a yard that's like a sunny green field. There are lots of people sitting out in the field, each person alone and well spaced apart. I drive my van among them, though for some reason I sit very high, as if in a low-flying airplane.

I see my friend Dena, and say hello to her, and what a nice day it is. She says yes, but unlike all the other people around the resort, she's got work to do. Indeed she has her nose buried in some paperwork.

I also see my friend Laura, and say hello to her.

Mark and I then embark on foot down the mountain in the snow and fog.