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I was at the graphic design office where I occasionally do freelance work, and the whole time I was frustrated by a feeling of missing classes; apparently I was back in college. Amidst my concern, Alex and a few other people in the office decided to take me in a car and drive somewhere. The landscape was a grassy country under summery sunlight. We drove down a long straight dirt road, apparently on our way to a popular hiking area in the mountains to my left. I later found us in someone's home, every room of which bearing the atmosphere of a parlor/gaming room, dim and unclean. Karen was there, off talking to some other girls standing near a rack packed with hanging coats. I came upon two children playing music together on their own little keyboards. They appeared to be about the ages of 8 and 6. They were prodigiously playing an amazing rendition of the duet of the theme of Super Mario Bros. As I was sitting on the carpet a few meters behind them, one of the children looked at me over his shoulder, still playing. I rolled my right hand in an effort to tell them to just continue playing. I was slowly getting jealous of their skill. They were smoking cigarettes. Their playing slowly got less and less coherent, perhaps as some sort of over-the-top finale. Alex and I exchanged glances of uncertainty. The 6-year-old on the right was simply sliding his fingers up and down every key with the sound of string ensemble active. When they finally seemed to be finished playing, I started to stand up with the intent of exhibiting my piano skill. Suddenly the 6-year-old on the right tackled me and began burning numerous spots into my neck with his cigarette. I was awakened by my cellphone.