Very cold, no furniture, I am sitting on a mattress. There's a baseball bat hanging from the wall. Three circular windows.

Araucarias. All of them. Must be South America. Wait! The ground is mulched, everywhere I look.

Weaving through, unhindered. Terrain is barely hilly. Narrow, useless path. One could just as well walk on the mulch in a straight line, with a little up and down.

It had to happen. This is no dry forest, and it's not flat either. A small stream. I could just walk across if I wanted.

It's a china teacup on its little dish, with a silver spooon. Full of warm tea.

It's a PGP key on a piece of paper. Can't open anything unless you have some sort of computer.