Where the young girls sat in the sunshine along the river and the young men strutted and swore, thunder was heard. Night came suddenly, sun sliced to darkness. A curtain dropped before the eyes of a thousand people, millions more. Memory was blind to the iron and rust of history. No one had thought the cities would swirl up again in flame, dust and ashes eager for the sky. The tulips were profligate that spring, blood-red cups brimming, the sun pouring into them like gold. For Lent that year, they gave up fear.