Dream 1

There is a warm baby in my hands. Small enough that I barely feel his weight. He is wrapped in light cloth of cotton. He has a bold head with peach fuzz here and there. The baby starts crying. Hungry--I think and I give him my breast. I feel his tiny hands. They are chubby and resemble silk at thouch. I grow so attached. The baby falls asleep on my shoulder. I feel his breath, little heart beat, pleasant warmth. I think to myself that there is nothing more beautiful in this life then this baby. My baby, sleeps peacefully.

Pompey. In front of me a glass case. It's taller than me and passed the dust and vague reflection of me, there are plaster casts on the floor. Casts of the victims of the devouring lava.

79 AD. People hide in the garden, hoping to escape the fury of the Vesuvius. Loads of steaming, hot, orange mass floods the city. They saw it come closer and closer. The mother and her children and other men saw it from the garden.

Forever they will watch. They were captured and sealed in lava. The mother and her children gathering their bodies in pain and the men mesmerized by what they saw that second. Colossal force of nature so powerful and astonishing that human words can't describe it. No words because if you are a witness you're gone. Darkness.

Darkness. Sealed under this black skin of ashes. Roting away bit by bit until found, poured into, put in a glass container. On display like a fossil, forever, serving the thirst of the tourists.

I watch the plaster molds and I can only imagine the pain.

The baby wakes up crying. There are people running. I am lost and confused. I turn around to look behind me. A giant green foaming mass of water, the size of a mountain, is ready to devour. It moves closer and closer. No mercy. I am mesmerized. I am so small, helpless, insignificant. And there are so many of us tiny, running around like bugs.

I run. I am so attached to the baby. Run. Run. For the life of the baby. Hide. Where? How? The mass of watter fills in everything until it bursts. My baby. He did not even see the world yet. It's too soon to go. Run. There is a pillar. Hide behind it. Hold on to the baby. Tight. Tighter. It is the last time. Darkness.

7:15 Am. Some annoying alarm clock noise lets me know I need to get up. I need to get ready to go to Pompey.