Well, here I am again - not making sense of the children running between the smokehouse and the chicken coop with bags of gold coins from the house.
Jumping the fence to the waiting buckboard wagon...very long hot ride past several ponds and lakes. The sun golden and sending sparkling ripples that blind me when I try to look.
The mosquitoes are terrible, but no relief.
I blink, and when I open my eyes, I'm in an old Victorian home, the messy children with clay and paint all over then, they look like miniature Mozart's complete with the tall messy white wigs. The lady of the house directs them to the washrooms, but they are confused. A small girl takes them one by one by hand and washes them for dinner.
And I wake up.
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