I was stranded on a tiny island with an open stone structure, floors and walls about head-high. It was cracked and worn like ancient ruins. There were window openings along the walls with square wooden inserts, or maybe cardboard, that I was trying to adjust and fix, pulling them out, putting them back in. I began to wonder what I was doing there and how I was going to leave. The Manhattan skyline was visible not too far away. But there was no bridge, no boats, nothing.