Feb. 8, 2010
From Sandy’s Dream Journal
A figure of a boy about 10 years old staggers out of the dusk dressed in 19th century dark trousers, jacket, and cap. He is begging from me, but I am scared and rush away.
He grabs my arm. He’s heavy, solid, and strong. “Help me!” he says to me.
I stumble away and he grabs me. Our combined momentum takes us over the edge into the ditch of the irrigation canal.
“Help me!” I cry over and over so the children who are behind me might hear, “Help me!”