Some friends came over to invite me to a party. Jason wasn't home yet and the baby was asleep, but I really wanted to go. So I just left, and left the baby sleeping at home.
We drove through a suburban area to a hotel/apartment building and went through an unmarked door on the ground floor. Inside was a clandestine gay bar, with a lot of cool people drinking and having fun.
I hung out there for a few hours, and then started to worry about whether Jason came home and was taking care of the baby. I called home and nobody answered. Suddenly I felt very guilty, irresponsible and concerned about Imogen.
I left the party and wandered down the road, an almost rural highway. Occasionally I had to go through a building in order to continue along the side of the road. I'd walk through a diner or supermarket and then continue along the road.
It became apparent that I had a long way to go to get home. I began to look for taxis and finally flagged one. It took me home. Jason was there and everything was okay after all.
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