What we do is we dig in this big pile of dirt. There is a whole crowd of us, all kinds, moving dirt back and forth, making holes and filling them in and making fun and passing time. This kid named Aaron can't say anything right. But he laughs along.
One of us is a dwarf, but it turns out the digging makes him angry and frustrated. We try but can't talk him down, he runs at a vertical part of the pile so hard he goes deep into it - then a small gold door closes and locks behind him.
Years later, the door is unlocked and i go down small stairs to where he lives under the dirt. His two children literally roll over to me .. they are incredibly malformed, a foot coming out of the back of one's neck, neither more than a foot and a half high, with faces round and squinty. They eep at me and glare while he comes to speak to me, guardedly, at the foot of the stair.
He decides he wants me to take his third son out to the outside world because he is too large to live down there, and the "handsome son" must have his adventures, seek his fortune. He is normal sized, sleeping, and naked, when we hand him up to the sunlight, maneuvering him through the staircase like an unwieldy sofa.
Soon after hitting the surface he is absorbed by a crowd of highschoolers. He acquires their posture dress and disdain, and always has a friend clamped to his side. He forgets me.
I follow them across a road and up a rough grassy hill for a performance. Crouched in the bushes and on top of a minimal stage the actors wear camoflage combats in Fantasia pastels, and some have gauzy wings. They carry stylized wooden instruments to represent guns, and begin to do battle.
I seek out the handsome son, who does not recognise me. I wonder if he'll remember his past at all, so i recount the dream from the beginning. At first he looks bored, but then he gets shifty. The guns start shooting bullets, but he's more wary of the story: he builds a small sturdy fort and hides from me.