One. Glass.

— Sleep my sweet pie, good night.

— Mum, I'm not ready to sleep, I need a story for my sweet dreams.

— Mhm, okay, but close your eyes and let me cover you with a blanket.

Ten years ago it was the hottest night in Africa's history. But nobody knew. So when sand glowed and dripped, when trees started burning, that night caught all citizens. Or not all... A man and a woman came home next morning from the abroad trip and found city in glass and themselves trapped in it. So they started a new life together. They gave a birth to a nice little sweet pie with curly hair and dark chocolate skin. On the fist day of his living in this world he hugged himself and almost died, but his parents promptly arrived and helped him.

That is why he couldn't touch himself. It is deadly for him. So he hugs his mummy and daddy, their cat and trees. But he nevere touches himself.

— This is the end, now sleep.

— Wait, mum. I want to ask you something...

— What sweet pie?

But boy didn't ask. He fell asleep.

In his dream he tried to wake up, because there was a very important thing he needed to do.

He remembered each trifle fron his life, but did not remember anything from the day when he was born.

He wanted to know why.

But then the hottest night in Africa came in his dream and sand started melting, it became a melted glass and merged in big hot transparent ocean. Waves heaved higher and higher. They were coming for him.

The boy screamed and opened his eyes. His left hand was itching, so he clenched his right hand into a fist not to scratch the left.

It was almost dawn, first sun rays reached the ground and all glass valley replied with bright red sparking. The boy heard muffled voices. His parents were talking outside, they were arguing. The fight was about... him?

He got out of bed and came out from under the canopy of branches.

When he showed up, parents broke off.

—Good morning Amadie, — said his father.

—Good morning, — replied boy.

—I will cook breakfast, — said Amadie's mum.

—Ok, I will go for a walk,— said the boy.

Alan was bobbing on the waves of the ocean, trying to distract himself from itching hand. During the last few days his left hand had been itching harder and harder and it was also harder and harder not to scratch it.

—My left itch will kill me, — said Amadie to the blue sky.

There were gruel of roots and wild berries and fried bird for the breakfast. Amadie's parents were talking about something, but boy couldn't understand what exactly. He was more concerned with the unrelenting itch. He tried to scratch his hand on a handful of boulders uncured in the glass next to him, but the itch only intensified. He started dizzying, he seemed to not feel the whole body except for the itchy hand!

His parents weren't talking anymore, they were arguing again.

Amadie looked up and found that they were stearing at him.

"Scratch your hand, sun!"— screamed his father.

"No, don't!" — cryed mother.

"Do it! And forgive us!"— yeled father through the tinnitus in Amadie's ears.

And Amadie scratched...

Amadie woke up in white room. His body was much bigger and kind of older than he remembered it. He looked on his left hand and saw bandaged wrist. Then he looked in the corner of the room and saw a woman. Probably, she had been sleeping and opened her eyes just a few minutes ago, but now they were opened widely and she was sovering her wide-opened mouth with a hand.

Amadie tried to ask her about what is happening, but his vocal cords could only moan.

The woman from corner stood up and whispered in amazement: "You woke up!".

She sobbed and in between sobs was saying something about some accident, shard of glass in hand and how she was scared that her darling son will die.

And suddenly twenty-four-year-old Amadie remembered all the things the woman was talking about. And in the same moment, when this memories appeared, the other ones, about living in glass valley disappeared.