Chapter 22: VisionsTHIS IS WHAT I see: Liwan, trapped in the smallness and weakness of his child’s body in the dream, flailing as he’s drawn deeper into the heavy sand. The sand has arms, grasping fingers clothed in an enforcer’s heavy white gloves. The glorious riot of light on the waves has been eaten away by the darkness, but I can still make him out beneath the ropy threads wound about him. I witness the stretched, churning horror of his face as blood not his own drips down his hair.
What light there is exists to illuminate the ruin of his bàba. He’s sinking faster than Liwan, sand crawling up his face, choking the slack mouth, clogging the blank eyes, until there’s nothing left of him but a damp stain. Liwan howls and sobs and begs for him to return, pleading for what’s done to be un
