The night was warm and there was no breeze. The entire surrounding was embraced by a strange stillness. But amidst this stillness, there was a rage in my heart as I dug the ground furiously with the spade in my hand. I kept digging with uncontrollable tears as I sank deeper and deeper with the descending level of the earth.

I was burying someone on that still night. Someone I loved very much. And it hurt me so that this person was now gone. Strangely, I had no idea who this person was that I was burying. But I was burying him/her. Alone. Wrapped in white linen, this very small person lay still by the grave that I was digging. I was breathless, whilst this body there had no breath. I was the only sign of life.

As the grave was prepared for the body to lay within it, I stopped my digging. I paused a brief moment to settle my lack of breath. And then I looked at the body wrapped in white linen. And I sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. And then I lifted the body up with both my arms, hugged it tightly, and gently placed it at the bed of the ground. And I covered the grave with the earth that I had dug out of it.

And then I woke up. Dazed. Mystified. Grieved. I have no idea what that was about. The picture is clear in my mind, but you can't snap a picture of what you see in a dream.