The next morning I go for a walk outside, and meet my Ex, who greets me in a friendly way.
It seems we are in an alpine meadow, and spend many pleasant hours together. Walking uphill, we encounter a lot of women who are bare-breasted. One has nipples like brass cymbals. I look at her, and expect to be reproached by my Ex, but instead she simply takes her top off and exposes her bare breasts. I say to her, "This must be the bare-breast zone," where it is okay for women to take off their tops. I run up the mountain road, seemingly with inexhaustible energy, looking for the place I stayed at the night before, in what seems to be a race with my Ex, but she has taken a different route, farther down the mountain. I go back down to meet her.
I can't remember where I had my pleasant repast the night before, as I am anxious to take her back to this happy place.
We start walking down the alpine meadow, when suddenly we are confronted by a steep cliff:
Without hesitation, my Ex dives off, bumping off the vertical hillsides on her way down. I find a safer route, and find her at the bottom, unharmed.
