In church with the women, my sister Amy says I couldn’t do it. I then stand behind the table in front of the room. I start singing. One of the leaders tells me to sing louder (because I was singing softly). All the women start singing hymns, going overtime. The last hymn was a conversation between a man and his son about our bodies (don’t know of any actual hymns of this sort).
Next, there are two guys walking down a street delivering mail, holding it in down their arms. It is all the same, an envelope. The day is starting to turn to evening. One of the guys mentions he can’t hold any more mail. There is a guy in a car waiting for them with the last of it.
Next, I’m in a car, in the front, on the left side, but am not the driver. I’m talking about cars when we come up behind a gold color Ford Edge (which the tailgate takes up the whole windshield), and I mention that I rented one after my husband passed (which I did).
Next, a man and woman are their farm standing by their stand to sell food. The woman wants to trade something of hers with something another person has, but I don’t remember exactly what. (The woman has wounds on her face, like a drug addict would have, but I don’t think that is why she has them. She has the more masculine type body, and movements.) She then finds out that she won’t be able to trade because her young daughter, who is playing nearby, did something with that thing / food. The woman complains, both to herself, and her husband, as she’s walking away, about that b______ doing something with the thing she wanted to trade.