The mother and daughter appeared in the dream as two harbors. Both were aflame, at a door. The son and brother who dreamed them told them to step back, they must be mistaken. And then within the dream he recalled wondering how fire could ever be mistaken. But he had time to only wonder for a moment. For a storm had disguised itself as a giant bird. This giant bird ate children, and could reach as high as then sun and the moon. The giant bird pecked at both. And then sad cabbages floated in the harbor, on their way to sea. Power is bankrupt, but has devastating consequences. Like glass one has to wear as a stocking. To break us. To create gloom. To make death reasonable. To have a voice which will utter a new direction. Have you eaten yet today, my people? Yes. We have been nourished by your sad cabbages of death. Perhaps the woman from our youth, the stranger who appeared now and then to help, told us she had "a cabbage head" not to explain her scars on her neck, but to quietly and ever so indirectly inform us something of what was and what would come. This stranger was helpful, and now it does seem like a useful piece of information.