Granny spoke about the lost village. I didn’t understand much of her story. It went like this: a hundred years ago there was a village of foreigners and after some time this village vanished. I could never get what she was talking about. But I liked the idea of a lost village in the middle of nowhere. It was not too difficult to find company for an expedition. In this part of the world people have enough time for history. We only needed some fuel and we were on our way.

As we approached the area close to where the remains of the lost village were supposed to be, we began looking for a big black stone. The legend says that such a stone marks the entrance to the village. After some time we concluded that the black stone was nowhere to be found. It also seemed that we were getting lost. We were surrounded by a thick forest and somewhere in those trees the black stone was hiding from us.

See also publication: Experience, Memory, Re-enactment

 

 

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