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A man - or rather something that can look like a man - is a guest in this old couple's home, and he's just won some kind of friendly contest between them. As he's about to leave, the wife tells her husband to go fetch something in particular from the attic, something to give to the guest as a sort of trophy for winning that contest. The husband produces a scarf that he believes has several hairs from a certain genius musician woven into it. It was given to him in Paris long ago in recognition of something, and it's very precious to him, so it's a worthy gift. The guest takes the scarf but sees that the hairs woven into it actually come from a cat. The wife was aware of this. By forcing him to accept this bogus gift, she's tilted the contest in their favor in the end. The guest acknowledges that it's her win, without letting the husband know.

As the guest leaves, he's thinking about the rematch they'll have when he returns to this place in 83 years. The people he'll be having a rematch with are that couple's descendants, but he doesn't understand the difference between a person's descendants and the person themself.

Some elderly relative of my husband's had died in our vicinity (in reality my husband does not have any local relatives). I knew to expect one elderly woman to come as a house guest for the funeral and had prepared for that.

However, on the day before the funeral it was not that one relative who arrived at my home expecting to be put up for the night, but it was several: all of them elderly female unknown to me and judgemental and unfriendly. Furthermore my husband and sons were not there to help me prepare, and the house I lived in was unfamiliar to me both in reality and in the dream. So I had to find new sheets for every bed in the house, and I did not know where clean sheets were. The bedding I found was really old fashioned looking, the kind one would find in an old person's home. But I could not find enough of it. I was fumbling around under the stern judgemental glares of my guests.

One of the guests at least was friendly: a former church member, Caroline. I do not know why she had come, but at least she was being encouraging.

Then I asked the guests what they would like for breakfast the next day. They replied "Nothing!" glaring at me even more. "One does not eat before a funeral! But after the funeral we expect a proper wake. You did remember to arrange the wake?"

That's when I lost my temper. "Why would I arrange the wake? She was not my close relative. There are closer relatives of hers locally. I hope they arranged the wake. But if they did not, that's not my problem!"

I woke up soon after that, disappointed to discover that it was already waking time.