la concordia ‘72 – part two

the lights across the many stands prominent across the festival grounds come to a standstill, flickering and dying one by one. the parade of darkness leads back towards the centre, where smoke begins to billow out to fill the space between. THREE figures cloaked in black take the stand, the centre being tallest at the pedestal. at first there is only silence, both audience and performer watching, measuring. is this part of the show? an uninvited trick? murmurs and whispers abound, admit to nothing conclusive; anticipation is both knife and victim, the only light enhancing the shadows of the THREE.

the centre breaks silence, voice projected as fine as if through a microphone — and perhaps one does lay beneath the worn, black veil they wear. there is no way to tell if the speaker is man, woman, or other.

silence again fills the court, neither party eager to address the performance. at long last, a decision is made, and one voice rings out among the rest — a woop! in the darkness. the crowd at large erupts in raucous cheers, accepting this display as fiction. those cheers quickly turn to hacking coughs as the smoke persists, drowning out all until the THREE vanish from sight. when the smoke clears, the pedestal is empty. a single carving of a spider is left behind, hasty and crude.

the surge of celebration commences again, but all over the island, locals question — what just happened?