He decided to stay right there and await his return. As he waited, a priest climbed to the top of a nearby tower and began his chant;
everyone in the market fell to their knees, touched their foreheads to the ground, and took up the chant.
Then, like a colony of worker ants, they dismantled their stalls and left.
The sun began its departure, as well. The boy watched it through its trajectory for some time,
until it was hidden behind the white houses surrounding the plaza.
He recalled that when the sun had risen that morning, he was on another continent,
still a shepherd with sixty sheep, and looking forward to meeting with a girl.
That morning he had known everything that was going to happen to him as he walked through the familiar fields.
But now, as the sun began to set, he was in a different country, a stranger in a strange land, where he couldn’t even speak the language.
He was no longer a shepherd, and he had nothing, not even the money to return and start everything over.
All this happened between sunrise and sunset, the boy thought.
He was feeling sorry for himself, and lamenting the fact that his life could have changed so suddenly and so drastically.
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