Little Mouse

Walking along the beach on a lovely, sunny day I notice that some wrong-uns are arseing about on a motorbike. I consider calling the police but realise I don't have my phone. That's that solved. I continue on across the rocks.

Meandering around the cliffs and heading to the shoreline I am approached by a young girl. She whispers something about a mouse. I bend down and ask her what she said: "There's a mouse trapped. A little mouse. I think it's a baby." Curious, I wander over to a large boulder in the middle of the sand.

On approach, the first thing to catch my eye is an old leather football boot, laced up. Through the small, perfectly round leg opening a blackbird looks out back at me. The bird seems healthy and happy enough to be hiding in the shoe. "This must be the mouse," I thought to myself.

My attention is taken to a shopping bag laid on top the boulder as I come to a stop. Inside appears to be a very young baby, possibly a newborn, but dressed in woollens. The baby is grey and I immediately assume that it is beyond my help. I check for movement and breathing but I'm too scared to make contact. Thoughts are racing through my head and I convince myself that I have to check: what if the baby is still alive?

I am immediately interrupted by the cries of a second child wrapped in a blanket right next to him. I am amazed that I failed to see beyond that first body. It's hard to tell an age but the child is extremely emaciated; clearly starving. Again, I am too scared to help the second child, but this time because of all the bones on show. It worries me that I may hurt her seen as she looks so fragile. It occurs to me that this may not be a child at all and could even be an adult. The body looks somewhat alien due to its condition. My thoughts turn to where I can get water, but I'm on a beach and miles from home.

I swing around to look for help and see a guy out walking. He can see by my manner that there is something unusual happening. I run over to him and ask him if he has his phone, and to phone for the police. No, the ambulance. Phone anyone. He attempts to do so but the signal fails. I do not want any of the other people on the beach to become aware of what is happening as there could be a panic which would make things worse, or the person responsible for such awful treatment may still be around.

I return to the two children and consider what I need to do. I notice that the first, grey baby's fingers are twitching and he does appear to be breathing. There is a milky white fluid coming out of his mouth. I decide I need to turn him over to allow the liquid to drain. At the same time I hold the hand of the second child and try to calm her down.

And then I woke up.

But what does it all mean?