I was in a large room apparently in the basement of the House in Patriot. I had just arrived for a visit and was planning to stay several days.
Living in the house next door was a girl, probably 17-18 years old, whom I had met on previous visits to Patriot and who was blonde, slender and beautiful. I had visited her for a short while upon my arrival in Patriot and knew she wanted to see more of me while I was here.
But I had waited 3 days without contacting her again. It hadn't been intentional because I wanted to see her; but the time had simply slipped away.
My father walked into the room to visit me and mentioned that Birdie was upstairs wanting to see me. I definitely didn't want to see Birdie and began trying to figure out how I was going to get past her to visit the girl next door.
My father began praising the girl's ability to play the flute. I knew she was talented. She had played the flute the last time I had seen her and apparently, by being dedicated, had vastly developed her abilities. I also played the flute but had sorely neglected it as of late. I thought I would like to play a duet with the girl, but felt out of practice.
I was going to be going to Paris soon. It would be lovely if somehow the girl could accompany me. I might talk to her of the possibility. I didn't want to have an affair with her and would need to make that clear. I simply valued her spirited nature and her artistic abilities. I would like to help her develop them and thought Paris would be a good place for her.
As I looked around the room I realized I was in what appeared to be a large dormitory room of a university. I had packed most of my things for my upcoming trip to Paris. However the room was going to remain empty until I returned, so I was leaving some of my possessions behind. On a table in the room were several issues of National Geographic which I had been using to cut out pictures for collages.
I had a large bowl of popcorn in the room which I had brought from some kind of dormitory cafeteria. I noticed I had accidentally put a silver salt shaker in the bowl when I had left the cafeteria and needed to take it back. Then I saw three or four different salt shakers were actually in the bowl. I was concerned because I hadn't meant to take them. I wondered if it indicated a kleptomaniacal streak in my nature.
As I tried to figure out how to sneak the salt shakers unnoticed back to the lunchroom, my father appeared at the door. With him was a brother of mine (probably in his early 20s) whom I hadn't seen in years. I wanted to hug them both, but first tried to stash the salt shaker in my pocket.
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