I’m supposed to commit suicide. I’m in my grandmother’s bathroom and there’s a grainy brownish clump of stuff I’m supposed to take that will kill me. I’m torn about whether I should take it or not. I know I’m expected to. I eventually decide not to and it makes everybody happy, even though I feel like I’m cheating.
Then I go to a sale in someone’s apartment. Everything is for sale, I think because she’s dead. People are swarming over the stuff for sale. I see some shoes that I like, but I can’t go back later for anything because people have bought up all the items.
