Thursday, December 5, 2019

A statue on the far side of the plaza turns out to be a real person. She sits even more quietly than I do, backlit by a spotlight, then rises, gathers some objects that I can't identify, and walks toward and past me into the dance center. I'm out here later than usual. The show won't start until ten. As I listen, I hear birds, distant traffic, and water running on both sides of me. They are gradually drowned out by human voices, footsteps and the sound of hand luggage being dragged across time-smoothed stone. I stand. It's time to go in.