We are at school. Possibly college. It's a bit like a staff room.
A young woman has come back to see us.
We promise to visit her studio.
On the TV is a large band with thirty or so players.
They are playing jazz which is very blues influenced.
Low in the mix are trumpets and trombones.
The band are wearing bright orange uniforms.
The music is in the background of the dream.
Then they are playing a very long, bluesy, almost dirgy piece.
Someone wants to change the channel.
That's okay, I say.
Although I'm obviously watching and enjoying it.
The band finish playing. They get up and leave the room. The same room we are all in.
I am standing in the doorway and they shuffle past me.
The camera follows them
and they leave by the back of the building.
It looks like America. Possibly San Francisco in the 30s
It is a bus depot.
They are bus drivers.
The foreman hurries them on to buses, three at a time.
They drive away.
I'm incredibly moved and close to tears.