Figures with the buildings of the death camp superimposed on their bodies.

There is a dream I have. Perhaps dream is not the right word. There is a nightmare I have that makes me toss and turn every night. That sets my mind on fire. Many people like me, who have gone through a trauma, have similar restless nights when the barrier between the past and the present is unaccountably and disastrously thin. Sometimes I think of alternate futures, alternate ways that people could have grown old in a kinder world. Here are some of the figures that haunt my dreams. The central figure has a building from the concentration camp projected on him. A harmless looking building, with a low slping roof and four simple windows. It is a caricature of architecture. A witness to torture, disease, and overcrowding. A place where a young woman, sick almost to death hid herself until she was strong enough to work. A woman who somehow survived and who told the story of her survival over and over and over to anyone who would listen until that time became a shadow for her – a time and a place she almost didn’t believe in anymore. Image by ©Kamran Ashtary