falling baby

I was standing with B on the side of an extremely steep hill of concrete, which was about a kilometre high. We were two-thirds of the way up the hill, waiting for a bus. A woman stood a few feet away, hanging onto a pram, and her baby played about her feet, just old enough to walk. Suddenly he slipped over, falling on his stomach, and instantly shot off down the hill as though it were made of ice, sliding at breakneck speed toward the bottom. There was nothing to stop his descent but the huge brick building at the bottom. We braced ourselves waiting for the tiny baby to come to an abrupt stop. Tears ran down my cheeks in horrified anticipation. What happened was even worse. Instead of impacting with the brick wall, the baby skated with dizzying speed through a narrow opening and disappeared under the building. Gone. The woman passed out and I, too shocked to bear it, woke up.