Dozens of young children of about 6 or 7 were building gravestones out of snow for their dead parents. A man in a black suit and tie was walking about, inspecting their work. The cemetery was a flat, wide field with neat rows of barely visible mounds under the snow, and the gravestones were all square and uniform. Although there were lots of people, the snow remained undisturbed.
I viewed this as a disembodied presence. Right in front of me was a cute little girl with black hair, dressed in a snow-caked black coat. She was really struggling with her work and I noticed that she does not have hands below wrist. Looking around, I saw that in fact none of the children had hands, although some had prostheses, either like hooks or plastic doll hands.
Unrestful daytime nap