“We’re nearly at the top. Jakob, when Nikos died I asked my father if he believed in God. He said: How do we know there’s a God? Because He keeps disappearing.”
We bent down to pass through the bushes at the edge of the hill. We emerged from the scrub of the ravine into the garden and lifted out heads to emptiness. Chorley Park, built to outlast generations, was gone, as though an eraser had rubbed out its place against the sky.
Athos, stunned, leaned heavily on his walking-stick.
“How could they have torn it down, one of the most beautiful buildings in the city? Jakob, are you sure we’re in the right place?”
“We’re in the right place, koumbaros… How do I know? Because it’s gone.”
~ Fugitive Pieces, Anne Michaels