Skipping, jumping Earth is a ball. When I jump I’m floating in space. I see only the sun. The sun is my swing. In this brightness, reflecting colors glow from me. A teacher with a train of kids walks by me. A kid loses a ball, rolls down the hill. Running for the ball, I turn around. The kids are gone? 
     Going into a train station, I’m an ant. The station is huge. The ball is echoing, bouncing off the floor. Outside at the other end, people are walking with their heads down. The sky is cloudy, walking up a hill. In the clouds there are some strange ships moving around with an arrangement of lines in the center. I can only see the lines that are glowing neon lights. They’re hundreds, silently moving toward the horizon where a bright yellow light glows. 
     Then I meet two people, a man with big round eyes and a continuous smile with an old woman. They invite me to their place. We’re inside a very large concrete room with a skylight that takes up most of one side of the room. The old woman says she wants to test me. She leads me to a room with a small square opening. 
     I’m alone when I start to sense a mental impression. I begin to float, fly through the square opening into the other room. Landing in front of the old woman, I say, “You called.” She says, “Very good.” 
     Now she tells me, “I’m looking for a word.” I notice the skylight, a forest outside. There are people floating between the trees, dressed in white, white faced, screaming in terror. They’re moving toward me. I say, “ Please.” The old woman starts laughing. She says, “You know what we’re doing here?”