It is a warm summer evening.
A light breeze blows gently over the brushwood-covered fields.
Clouds drift across the dusky sky and thicken into a black carpet as night approaches.
With darkness comes clarity.
For a short while, all thoughts, like a waterfall, flow inexorably downwards.
Silent images flicker before the closed eyes.
Suddenly, the memory.
The emptiness that fills everything when a heart breaks.
The realisation that nothing can be changed.
The hope of being allowed to return home soon.
Knees on the floor.
The silent call, loud.
Twelve figures manifest in a circle.
The thirteen are complete again.
An approving nod.
A final embrace.
A collective departure.
Each in a different direction.
It is a cold winter evening.
A biting wind blows mercilessly across the snow-covered fields.
The sky is cloudless and the moon is full.