A Son's LamentTwilight came, bringing with it a myriad of brilliant reds, oranges and violets as the sun dipped slowly beyond the horizon. A faint breeze carried with it the sweet scent of springtime and the promise of a calm night.
Farfarello sat alone, perched on the edge of a concrete fountain. It had stood at the center of the city park for as long as any of its residents could remember, and the multi-coloured graffiti and crumbling structure remained a sad testament to the amount of care anybody put into it these days.
Farfarello felt an odd kinship with the decaying relic, a sentiment he shared with no living being, and had taken to visiting often. He would sit for hours as the sunshine gave way to moonlight and the bustling crowds hurried home to the comfort of their families. He sat and he dreamed of the past and the present, and silently contemplated his future.
Sometimes, he merely sat and listened to the screaming in his head.
On this night, the screamers were quiet, and Farfarello's mind