Word after word the hero disappeared behind the stories, until one day he felt his journey complete. He had lost his identity to become everything. This thought distracted him and he stopped for a moment, his audience openmouthed.
When the hero returned he was changed. He was older than people remembered, his beard was short and white and, more than anything, he had become kind. He never was kind in his youth, his intelligence unsettling to others, his
Ekaterina danced tirelessly in the FishTrain halls, days and nights, alone and in front of hundreds, in summer and winter to a music she alone heard. Looking at her Julia heard the music too.
Gaia spoke again from memory, her words mysterious and fascinating to Julia. Whoever cannot seek the unforeseen sees nothing, for the known way is an impasse.
We are like sailors who on the open sea must reconstruct their ship but are never able to start afresh from the bottom. Where a beam is taken away a new one must at once be put there, and for
Upon those who step into the same rivers, different and again different waters flow, said Gaia. Julia listened quietly, her eyes focused on the candle’s dancing flame.
Among the kids diving in the lagoon Antonio alone cultivated a passion for drama. The submerged floors were his stage, fish and algae and the occasional friend his audience, a combination of exploration and staging his art. He assembled weighted furniture