Tuesday, September 07, 2004

I am visiting an estate, spacious, airy, like in the movies. This is a fashion setting; the residents are known in that field. There are clothes falling onto a tile floor, which is in a large dormitory bathroom. Some new skirts, probably with labels recognizeable by some, droop near a pool where ordinary sewage stands. I am appalled at the sight. Such an effective contrast.

I try and tell one lady in another scene, no need to display the label. Everyone will know it's an Armani.

There is a pup who is not Scoob. He rambles around an office. Some raffish sort is moving towards the john, and I'm anxious to make sure to keep the pup out of his way.

Here is one gathering large boxes. How is she doing this? She will take the pup home with her. I make to help, but don't know what I might do. The hound must be a stray, and she will keep him until she finds a home. She is carrying now what looks like computer equipment, the way you might bundle up a laptop to work at home, but this is the monitor and processor of a desk unit. She will take the pup with her. I say, oh, well, I guess she knows what she is doing...