Chapter Text
‘He was gloomy and stained, that tiny little man who walked through the streets of the small town.
No one had ever seen his face, he wore a hood pulled down over it to hide from the scornful looks of the townsfolk, who stared at him with disgust, hoping not to soil their fine clothes by passing too close to him.
No one knew what he did during the day; some said he enjoyed being a vandal, others that he was a wanderer, who would never seek a place where his feet might stop.
But of one thing everyone was certain: No one would ever dare to ask him.
The tale tells that, on a spring day, a little girl with skin soft as clouds and cheeks red as strawberries decided to approach the mysterious little man, who had always drawn her attention.
He was astonished that, for the first time, someone looked at him without judging or fearing him, so he asked: “What are you looking for, child?”
And the girl answered: “The same thing you are.”
The little one had gone straight to the point; she knew that this mysterious figure was not hiding something, but rather seeking and seeking it again, day after day.
“What I seek cannot be seen, little one,” said the man, pulling his hood even lower over his face.
“But if what you seek cannot be seen, how can you ever find it?” asked the sweet little creature innocently.
“Simple, you feel it.”
The girl did not try to understand any further; by now the man’s words had become a strange riddle.
She looked at him curiously, while he fiddled with a button of the dark robe that had just come undone, probably worn out by the many years of use.
“Can you tell me your name?” she asked, hiding a disappointed pout caused by the man’s ‘non-answers’.
The little man smiled and removed his hood.
And she was left speechless, when from beneath that gloomy cloak appeared a beautiful young man, with two eyes colored with a thousand shades and skin so radiant that it was impossible for the girl to look directly at his face.
“My name is Love, the very name of the same substance I seek every day,” he replied.’
Jericho, handwritten note, 07/26/1982