My name is Jon, I tell her, and spell it. I'm standing in an arid land, amid a herd of sheep and goats. I'm watching them, I tell her. She asks me to move ahead in time, to dinner. When I do, the house is primitive, with one window and a door.
Wooden bowls sit on the table.
I describe the setting, including the people in the house. While they don't look like people I know now, I somehow recognize them as my sister and brothers today. The pictures unfold like a dream. But she insists. Next, we go to an event in Jon's life, a street fair.