Out in the country, at a nice house. Go outside and they’re hang gliding. I go, but don’t put my legs in the sack. Go up and down and land in a field. Carry the glider up steps through a town. People look at me. Want to go again, but have to be somewhere. Try to go, but there’s traffic so I have to wait, then run to get going. Try to put my legs in the bag.
My exciting life, this place