We played together long ago and not far from here. As we grew older, our faces wore out and we made new masks for ourselves. It didn’t matter.
The village walls turned their backs on us, betrayed us with their silence. The sky kept all of its secrets as well; it told us nothing. But maybe we were running too fast to listen.
Venice remained asleep, far away, on the other side of the sea. It receded even farther into haze as the riders got closer. They said nothing, but their horses called out to us: “Don’t be afraid, little souls. We won’t harm you.”
We often wondered: should we have believed them?