“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I nod and we walk out of the restaurant — Seth trailing along behind. We walk down a shaded, quiet street and turn in at a large white house with a screened lower porch. There is a large tree to the left of the porch, and a weedy driveway leads back to a large white barnish-looking building with double top-hinged doors. We go up a set of outside stairs and into an apartment which seems to have a large living room. Rob is about to haul out some paintings — they seem to be landscapes — when he groans in agony and nearly falls down in pain from his back, apparently. He manages to lie down on the floor and I try to show him some yoga exercises for it, but he brushes me off. I suddenly feel desperate to do something for them before it all ends.

I poked Rob, and told him what I thought. Then suddenly he just stood up, said, “Let’s dance,” and dragged me out onto the dance floor. A moment earlier I’d seen him grimace with pain. The band was playing a twist, and we didn’t know the dance. For that matter, up to that point we hadn’t gone out much and rarely danced. I resisted, but Rob wouldn’t take no for an answer — very uncharacteristic of him.