In the distance there is a factory town, smoke coming up into the sky from the chimneys. There is a little boy riding in the back basket of a bicycle. He looks about 4 years old. Lots of traffic driving by fast. A man is on the bicycle. I don’t see what happens.
The little boy is suddenly somewhere else in space. I can see galaxies in the distance and possibly the Milky Way. He seems to have been knocked right out of his body by something. He is still in the basket on the back of the bike but I can’t see the front of the bike any more. I reach out my hand and put my hands under his arms and lift him out and put my arms around him.
He seems quite shocked, he is not fighting me.I get the name Foi. We are now in a home somewhere in China, a Chinese woman is preparing a meal, his mother I think, a square sturdy table with a white cloth on it, she is at the stove, she does not know what has happened. I have the boy with me.
An elderly Chinese man enters through a wall in the kitchen, he has a long beard and a brown robe, like pictures of very old Chinese men that you see, and he seems to be a relative of the boy’s, he approaches us and indicates, without words, that I should give him the boy, the little boy seems to know him and his face lights up, maybe a grandpa or favorite uncle, and he lifts the boy up lovingly and with serious expression on his face, and leaves via the wall with the child. I am left in the kitchen with the mother cooking the meal, she is unaware of anything being wrong.
Soon someone will knock on her door with the unwelcome news.Wish there were something we could do to assuage the incoming grief of those left behind.