Carrie's New York City house
I'm visiting Carrie's house. We walk into the entrance, a small wooden foyer, and then go into the living room. It's a huge gorgeous room with lots of light from the multiple windows and the ceiling, which is a series of skylights. There's a hole in the center of the room that shows the grassy backyard -- it has a glass bubble wall encasing it. There's lots of kid's toys on the floor. I like this place and I get the feeling I'll be staying here for a while. I think about how I want Carrie and her family to stay with me in Ashland sometime, for I want to show them the beauty of my houses there (both John's and Mom's). I hear city sounds nearby (honking cars, busses, etc.) and remember that we're in NYC. I'm sitting on the wooden-planked floor next to a couch. There's a gathering of city women near me. Oprah Winfrey's there.
NEXT, I'm reading a script, with the plot unfolding in front of me as a visual scene. I'm right there in middle of it, like an omniscent, invisible viewer. I'm at home (3rd St. house), in the living room. The TV is on, with a football game on the screen. Then I sense a strong feeling of yearning and lust -- almost tangible emotions. I'm now in a lion's den in a zoo. It's night. The wooden gazebo-like den is at the top of a rocky hill next to a creek. Inside is a cozy bed, but it's still definitely a lion's den. There's a man and a woman. She's a scientific-looking lion trainer wearing glasses and her hair up in a bun. He's young and horny. They spend the night together. The next morning they come down the hill happy and loose. Her hair is down. They join some other people. The man and woman have intense moments of eye contact, and they both sprinkle sexual allusions throughout the conversation. Nobody else notices but me.
The Lion Den
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