I’m in the center of a sort of encampment, with lodges or huts all opening onto a core meeting area. There’s seating in the middle on long picnic-style wooden benches, haphazardly placed.
I’m listening to sermons from Orthodox Jewish preachers. Anne and Sherri are sitting with me and I can tell that they’re judging me.
Later, I am rolling up a joint, but it’s enormous, like the size of a paper towel tube. And I’m spreading the inside of the paper with butter.
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