A party. There’s food. We’ve been eating, then washing dishes. I look in the fridge, discover a box with a dessert in it, also a few more pieces of crumb cake. I bring these out. Then someone comes in with a birthday cake for a young boy and we all sing, “Happy Birthday.” There is a long dark corridor leading to the front door. Against the light of the open door I see the silhouettes of men in robes who are entering. There’s a Middle Eastern feeling to them. This is unexpected, but one of the men is the father of the birthday boy. I think this is special.