On the curious finding during a morning walk along the coast.
But one day I looked back at the museum. In two weeks summer was about to appear. Tomorrow she would arrive, and I couldn't think about anything more than that. And as with many other people, there was nothing like the feeling of the still cold air, the sound of the waves on your right, the very few people more worried about keeping their pace than what the other was worried, anxious about.
And I realized that the statue was gone. I was thinking about how should I salute her, considering a handshake, a hug, maybe just raise my hand and a loud "Welcome!". I had carefully evaluated the plans, the walks, the visits. For sure, it was all going to work.
Vanished. But it was impossible, for it was there, petrified, gigantic, the face of the two animals looking at the sea, defiantly. It was there just minutes ago when I was passing through it.
I stopped and looked around. Nobody was around. The sun was already on the horizon. Soon, people would realize, and someone would find the lost (maybe stolen?) statue. They had to, for she had to see the statue, she had to be impressed by it.
Nobody was coming. And I realized the sound of the waves had stopped. I looked back. The sea was not moving. The clouds had covered the sun.
Who was gone? What could I do?
Was I going to be next?