I woke up in the middle of the night. There was something wrong, I felt it on my skin, like a vibration … or maybe the vibration was real? In anxiety to check that everything was in order, I got up and went to check the crib: my baby was resting peacefully, unaware of my worries. I stretched a finger on him, softening only at the sight of his little body that was turning all over to be able to embrace my hand with a sweet, serene smile on his lips. I just caressed it, then when I was about to take a step towards the bed, I felt it. It was like an earthquake, it shook the earth, but in the rhythm of footsteps, as if a giant was entering my house. No, not entering, coming up from my cellar!
Convinced that he was a thug, I ran to the door and saw him, at the base of the stairs: a gigantic man, at least three meters tall – barely entered the narrow space of the stairs, which creaked under his weight – made, composed, of gigantic, rounded boulders, which were held together by magic unknown to me. The stones rolled on themselves as they moved, making noises like pebbles, and when the being looked up, I saw that he had a hollow expression on his face. He was sad, he seemed on the verge of tears. Terrified, I remained on the threshold: I did not have the strength or the speed to overcome it, not with my baby, but at least I would try to protect him until the end.
The being reached me without saying a word. He stretched his immense hand over my face, caressing it coldly with a delicacy that I did not expect, then he lowered his stone lips to my forehead, slightly pressing them. At that point, I saw it: hanging around his neck, like a sort of amulet, was a tiny golden chain attached to an oval medallion. Inside was my photo, yellowed and full of earth. My eyes filled with tears, and I fell to the ground, while the being passed me climbing over me. I followed him with a lost gaze, trying to understand how the pendant with which I had buried my husband ended up on the neck of a gigantic stone monster …
He wrapped his big hands around the baby’s tiny body, never squeezing it. He brought him slowly to his chest, without him even waking up, and began to rock him, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a room that seemed too small for him even to sit down. I had seen the look on his face a thousand times, and I read in it the regret of having abandoned our infant son while still in diapers, of not having had the opportunity to know him, to hold him in his arms, and all for an illness that he had not been able to control. I read the pain and the deep remorse of not having been able to do more for him when he still had time to live.