It's Friday, and it is time for intro to psychology, taught by a bald man with a fez and a ridiculous and unpronounceable name. Instead of the normal class, however, he has arranged that we will meet at his studio. I'm unable to provide my own transportation, so Kurt has kindly let me carpool with him.

We get there early, and so I take a detour to the building's computer lab, where I talk to MagentaSalmon on the internet. Unfortunately I lose track of both time and space, and 15 minutes letter I realize I'd better find the STUDIO, as I am already late.

It's on either the second or third floor, I recall. The stairs are awfully steep, and the green carpet is so stiff it borders on being Astroturf. The building is actually quite large, with a variety of balconies looking out into large atriums.

I eat the same food at every meal, if I eat at all.

Am I even in the right building? Perhaps not. I set off across the landscape of the night, avoiding dark shapes which might be snakes. Eventually I see a light in the distance, which resolves into a neighborhood of houses, their windows lit up with christmas lights. I'd like to go inside, but I have to find that office, so instead I open a gate and go into the backyard.

Sometimes, out of nowhere, I find something to be hilariously funny, just for a few moments. Then it leaves me.

The air is heavy with mist, as if from a nearby fountain. A girl slowly walks toward me out of the house, singing in a language I do not recognize.

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