186 | 031210

I was visiting what appeared to be Victoria Falls. There was an old bridge built over a gorge, and I crossed it with a group of tourists. Peering over the edge of the gorge into the river, we saw several whales below the surface of the water. On the high slope down from us to the water, there were some wooden scaffolds, perhaps to prevent people from falling all the way down. A small child wearing a vivid chartreuse T-shirt jumped down onto one of the scaffolds. He wanted to get a better look at the whales. I sensed grave danger for this child, and was frustrated that his parents did not try to get him back behind the railing. His father briefly attempted to stop him, but the child jumped all the way down to the water. I felt a shocking urgency. Someone told me that the child was about to get eaten by the whales, and that I may want to look away. Walking away from the railing toward the back of the crowd, I was able to roughly discern by the crowd's reactions what was happening below. They were first wavering back and forth between cheering and nervousness. But soon they were all screaming in terror, followed by silence. I knew what had happened, and I went back to the railing to peer down at the scene. Wincing and dreading the worst, I saw a man crouching down on the bottom scaffold cleaning up some sort of mess. The entire left side of his body was covered in blood and pieces of flesh.