By Christos Tsagkaris
People were strolling in the cold November night, filled with life as the vessels of the city. Statues of old wise men were daydreaming, proud in the liveliness of their hometown. All of a sudden armed men showed up, the tongues of fire screamed and lights went off.
An infinitesimal moment of silence followed the eruptions.
At that very moment, the statues descended off their pedestals and started walking among the dead and the injured. They tried to cry but a rocky silence defeated their voices. The light of their wisdom sprang from their eyes and encountered the flames of darkness.
A sad and surreal comment. Very good story, Christos.