There was a tree with a branch hanging low. it was sort of broken off at the end. I climbed up it and found myself in the heart of the tree. ants, dirt, view, I didn't spend very long there, maybe it was exploratory or maybe I didn't feel much but came back down again, and felt pleased that I had managed that. It seemed special. Neil and Dermot were coming along the road, and Neil invited me to that evening's events with Dermot. As we walked along I had nothing to contribute to their conversation and was silent, not knowing the writers they were talking about. I realised that the tree access was normal and expected for them, not special, and many others did it habitually and proficiently.

We got to the house where we were spending the evening and I went to the kitchen for something - I don't think I was expecting dinner but Dermot's wife (actually Derek's wife) said "Oh, you're not included in the dinner."

So I went away, to another room, which was mine - in the same house, but actually somehow in a rented flat, shared student flat. There was a piano in the room and bits of vegetables/ sushi or snacks out that I could nibble on. Nothing like 'dinner' but enough for me.