One day near the Flamingo, which may not have been a building but an idea, I found a hidden wood with a church in it. I thought I had heard rumours of it and that the choir area (in the back of the church rather than the front) was haunted. I was in the church when suddenly a Presbyterian service started. At first I was sitting, but then I found myself preferring to stand by the doors. I was bored and wondered how the church could be haunted as any ghosts would be bored. I spotted someone from work in the congregation but she didn’t seem to notice me.

Just then a theatrical production started, during which I found myself, no matter where I was, constantly in the way. The production was not on a stage at the front but was fluid throughout the church. At various points, the congregation would face forward, backward, or inward from a circle. Sometimes they would be spread out. By the doors, I would be given various things to hold until someone came along to get the prop. At one point I was holding a weird, tiny animal on a display and shrouded in some kind of web, although it was alive, but the person who took it interrupted the production to say it wasn’t a prop; it and several others she had were part of her collection.

Finally, I realized I was flanked on both sides by singers who were about to perform, so I had to get away through the one remaining door; the door next to it had disappeared.

I found myself in a magical park which an upside-down plaque at the bottom of an elaborately detailed sign proclaimed to be “The Borland Park.” Further along I found a mansion called “The Borland House.” There was something about it being the home of a printer. It was very long and either white or pink stucco or some similar “flat” material.

It was all unfamiliar, strange, and beautiful, and like nothing I would ever find.