Adagio

The ballet had gone on for years. An Indian reaches out to gently stroke the bullet-ridden face of a twenties-era gangster. Nearby, a failed banker in three-piece suit watches. Beneath them, two rope bound young lovers have their mouths open in silent scream.

To the left, a young girl waves her arms slowly, in a desperate bid to find lost parents. She occasionally brushes up against the latest addition to the tableau, a local who’d simply had too much to drink.

And the ballet goes on. Minerals and geology ensure it might never end.

The water here is deep.