#VisDare 119: Omitted #WritersWednesday #150

Where shall we go now? I know, along the tree-lined streets of our memories, now full of young people of all ages, the façades of the houses from time to time displaying the scars of the great battle, to ensure we remember…

Slowly, we retrace our steps, all those years past, and the ghosts wonder how the city can shield creatures as old as us within its walls, for we are older than them, as ancient as the forests, far, to the East.

Soon we will watch the crowds on Museums Island, patient actors of antique plays, wearing the masks of joy, we will listen to the troubadours, watch the coloured balloons going up to the skies.

Clouds: my heart longs for your touch, ephemeral, giant reflections of our pain.

Come, my love, the city is ours, and we have all eternity to savour her pleasures, from dawn to dusk.