Yet Papa was telling her she had made up stories in her head and now she realised she still had snippets of them, like the tale she had created for little Tonio at the fountain, to explain why he always seemed so sad. He’d lost a friend, a girl called Ana, who died and went away to the heavenly realms of Tarya forever.
But there were no new stories in her head now, merely the tracings of long lost tales, and she wondered if her gift was gone forever.
~
Mina and her parents shared a solemn lunch, speaking in subdued voices of the successful harvest and Papa’s upcoming trip to the coastal city of Male to sell the season’s best apricots and figs. After lunch, when it came time to seek out the players, Mina hugged her mother, shouldered her bag, and walked with her father to the square. He
