I'm walking through a tunnel. It's quite a large tunnel and of a pleasing shape: a sort of squashed oval. The tunnel has thick walls and a large opening on each end. Outside a hurricane is raging, but I am safe from it here. I'm walking with someone, but I fail to notice who. Rain is flying vertically into the tunnel from each end, propelled by the wind. I find it refreshing. In the middle of the tunnel the walls change into an old tea-room or pub, with cheery lit windows. There are people inside eating and having tea. They wave at us to come in. We sit down and take off our rain-soaked jackets and are served a nice hot lunch, listening to the howling winds echoing down the tunnel.
