Sons of Prometheus (I). In a summer night.
That night of August was really mild. People began to concentrate in the square. There was something more than the warm breeze. I don’t know, but there was something…
Ordinary people, families, people trying to refresh themselves but feeling uneasy.
Nobody noticed, but strange characters appeared in the square.
Others not so strange, but they didn’t fit the place and the scene.
In the end, the breeze stopped and with it the whispers and talks. It was time. The wait ended.