Scarves

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Dark and rolling were the clouds above, looming over the narrow alleyways. From the hill above, crowned with its stone structure, majestic not only by virtue of years, to the artisan hovels and stands below.

Towards the end of the day, such scenes could often be witnessed. The jostling of tired men and women hastening to their homes, perhaps stopping to collect a loaf of bread or a recent magazine issue.

The stones underfoot, the bleak sky overhead, the masses all around... Then those bits of life-giving color which punctuated the darkness; fluttering from sidewalk racks and tucked into so many gray and black coats.

Hundreds of scarves hinting at hundreds of lives yet to be lived.

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