I make my way to him, stealthy and slow, tiptoeing through the strange, cloying dark of an eclipse – a lost sun. I avoid the bored soldiers that stand around, making bets, waiting for him to die with the same ambivalence they would any criminal. The crowd of people surrounding this hill are no more than a mixture of silhouettes in the dark, their humanity lost in the shadows. I don’t have the capacity to deal with them right now, the disheartening reality of us when we become a mob. So I steer clear of the die-hards, those that have nothing better to do than be here, joking amongst themselves and taunting him now and then, trying to get a ...