On Friday everything changed. Overnight the world had been bandaged in gossamer threads, as if a greater power had said,
“Enough. Only compassion will emerge from this cocoon.”
We clambered over silken fibres holding the earth together. Suspended above our heads, like baubles on a tree, were tanks, missiles and the emblems of big business gone bust. They clanked in the wind, a warning to tread carefully in this new world.
We advanced two by two: storytellers and scientists, teachers and inventors, doctors and judges, imams and priests, farmers and soldiers.
On Thursday oblivion had awaited; on Friday rose hope.