Dreams.

My first memory is of a Romani district in some city. Absolutely all the Roma were overweight; I didn't see a single slender person. Eventually, I ended up in another district, a poor one, a very poor one. I was wearing a blue suit, something like this.

I walk along a metal platform, located quite high above the ground, about twenty meters, past the dwellings of the poor. No more than five square meters each, crammed close together. They are made of old, rusty pipes. In one of them, I see a young woman who has just given birth; she is crying, probably because she didn't want a child. "Who's to blame?" I say. "Don't you know where babies come from? Or haven't you heard of contraception? Oh, right, I forgot where I am." She looks at me with a gaze full of pain and suffering, but I have no feelings. She seems to be telling me that she is not to blame. "You were raped, you say," I mutter. "Well, everyone here is raped."

In the neighboring shack, children are sleeping. They are either sick or simply very dirty. No, it's some kind of infection that is raging in this area. But I'm not afraid of it, probably because my immune system is capable of dealing with even worse things.

Then, a black man appears in front of me, undressed from the waist up. I was waiting for him. He has something to do with my work.
"Get dressed. I have a solution to your problems. How dirty it is here," I say.
"Is this dirt?" he says to me and points somewhere, but I don't look, because I'm already listening to the noise. It's a stream of water. The local authorities periodically wash away the inhabitants of this area into the ocean. Once, a river flowed in this place.

The black man hides in some kind of shelter, designed specifically for such cases. He calls me, but the thought of being in a confined space with these people makes me stay. Besides, I can breathe underwater. Grabbing onto some structure, I wait for the stream. It comes quickly and washes me away along with this structure. I am tossed and turned, thrown from side to side, but I do not lose consciousness. Images of roller coasters, which I have never ridden, flash through my mind. Well, I think, here I go. After a while, I find myself on the beach. Later, presumably in my laboratory, my colleague, also a scientist, is finishing his project and happily reports that everything worked out. The project is somehow related to metals. He says that we should report the results of his and my work to the appropriate authorities. I agree, and on the local news, they are talking about a large stream of water...