By now they were little more than two shadows silhouetted against a horizon of dying sun.

Occasionally, yes, something human could be glimpsed; a cheekbone, an elbow protruding sharply, a hand jutting out. But they were moments, everything then fell back into an indecisive mixture, stained with earthy, slightly dirty blues. Shadows returned, in short.

They walked together, one with her hand on the other's shoulder, two shadow friends one would have said. Who knows what they were saying to each other.
Shadow stories of course.

Giampaolo Talani - OMBRE 2005.