The Stairs Killed Him
I dreamt that I was busy with house chores and had forgotten that the door was wide open. I tried to look for my son, but the next thing I knew, a few people were seen hanging around this huge set of staircases. Apparently, my son had quite a bad fall down the staircase and died. When I came closer, he was in a box filled with water. I took him out of the box and carried him with my left arm — as usual. He seemed alive. He looked odd — his body made some movements and his eyes were wide open. Despite understanding from the people that he had died, I called the ambulance, hanging on to every hope I had left. I stood there with him in my arms, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. I remembered thinking, how can a set of stairs kill him? Then I realized that the steps were pretty high and far apart.
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