Hoppie and I and his family were touring an Amish house. It was about 7 stories high, maybe 6, and hoppie and I flew from level to level. It was a pretty open architecture, so it wasn't really obvious that we were flying, I don't think. We got to top level and went into a room off to the left. It was a dining room. There were two layers of tables. I alighted down at one of the upper layers of tables, seating myself in a booth to wait while hoppie did something. Meanwhile, down below, the Amish were harranging (nicely) one of the people who'd come in with us. Maybe hoppie's mother. It wasn't entirely clear to me.
Anyway, hoppie came back to help me up (because I couldn't really actually get myself off the ground, I could only move around once he got me in the air) and we went off to sail out the window and outside. The windows in the dining room were odd though, they were a succession of wood frames with mosquito netting and there were a bunch in a row, all getting smaller. I could get through the first one easily, and could probably have gotten thorough 2 more, but after that, I wasn't so sure. So we packed out and went into the other room, off the right. There we met back up with his family. Hoppie helped me pick his dad up, and his dad and I flew out, while hoppie got his mother and sisters and helped them out.
Hoppie's dad said to me, "How long have you been able to fly?"
And I replied, "Oh, I can't fly. It's hoppie. I can only move around once I'm up. You could probably do it too." I demonstrated how you could push down on the air to go up, or push the air up to go down. Left/right, etc. He opted to not try it but let me move us out the window and down to the street outside.
He asked how long Hoppie had been able to fly.
"As long as I've known him." I replied. "I always assumed it was because Cheryl (hoppie's mom) was a witch." Hoppie and the rest of his family joined us on the ground. "I've assumed I've been able to fly as much as I can because I'm *whispering* involved with him." I was wondering if I could test that theory, see if I flew better immediately after a social evening with hoppie, when hoppie said,
"It's because of the sulfur in the bed. The more that wears off, the better you fly." Which didn't make a whole ton of sense to me, but whatever.