She runs toward the tree. As she comes closer it is looking bigger and bigger. He is behind her, he lifts her, she reaches and she has a thick lower branch between her arms. She kicks her feet, and is seated in the tree. She looks up. She sees the apples above her. Strtching out her arm she realizes they are all out of her reach but one, and that one is crawling with spiders and bugs. Gingerly, she brings her legs up under her, slowly, she stands.

Suddenly, the tree is a cider mill. She is inside, but high up, looking down at the apples going into the press, in like lemmings, and the press rises and falls heavily, and the liquid flows out...

And she starts to feel funny, she feels presure around her, it presses, presses...