The cobblestone city street is broken up where it meets the curb. There is a narrow grave dug there, clean cut sides, a storm drain at the head of the grave, imbedded in the sidewalk.
A woman dressed warmly against the cold approaches, kneels down while people pass by on the sidewalk and roughly tosses the microcephalic, tiny body of her daughter into the grave. The body strikes something protruding from the side farthest from the sidewalk making a thumping noise. The woman jumps into the grave, holding under her arm giant stalks of fresh cut asparagus, to serve as bedding, covering and to help preserve her daughter's body. While alive she doted and cared for her daughter whom she loved dearly.
Suddenly a man reaches into the six foot deep grave and takes out the little girl. He is a massive man, heavily bearded, grey disheveled hair, a man without a home.
"Now, now" he says, holding the tiny body in his massive hand bringing her up to his lips and kissing her forehead. The mother is visibly shaken, she seems to come out of a trance like state and then the old man begins to speak, saying what she wanted to say, to explain to him.
"Oh my", he begins. "No one accepted this child when she was alive". It doesn't matter, she thinks, she is meaningless dead. The man looks at the giant stalks of asparagus.
"Look" he says, pointing at the girls side, raising her shirt slightly to show a red abrasion where the body struck the jutting object. Her body is still pink, I am thinking in the dream.
The old man has a tear in the corner of his left eye but he doesn't wipe it. The woman is upset, fidgeting nervously.
"It's nothing" says the mother.
"But look!" says the man, prodding the area, now a slight bruise. "Something must be done about this. Poor creature."
Segev's staccato breathing woke me up and I jumped from bed to start suctioning and clapping on his back.