di Antonio Napoli

The caravanners, descendants of a branch of the Great Builders, reached the farthest edge of the desert.
As every year, on the Day of Confusion, they gathered to remember the event. That evening, the eldest spoke aloud within the circle of firelight.

“The building did not collapse all at once. First, the provisional summit gave way. Then two bolts of lightning struck the structure with such violence that not a single brick remained upon another. A cloud of dust, ever denser, ever wider, engulfed us. Those who thought they had pulled a relative or a friend away from the disaster had, in truth, saved only their bodies, while their souls remained trapped in terror and estrangement.

I and others, though I know not how, overcame misunderstanding and tore down the last remaining bricks. There were still intact machines; a mountain of rubble had buried the lime meant for new constructions; the clay for other bricks, now useless, has today become a hill of hardened earth. Where the walls collapsed, we raised an altar of memory. Where the beams shattered, we learned to look at the sky’s blue with a new melancholy.”

The old man paused, letting silence settle between the flames and the absorbed faces of the caravanners. Then, in a more solemn tone, he added:

“Perhaps one day, the primordial tongue, the mother of all languages, will once again resound among men, and with it, concord. But do not delude yourselves: it will not be a simple reconstruction of what was lost. Before unity can be reborn, we must fill the Well of Babel with the fallen stones. Every misunderstood word, every broken promise, every distorted truth is one of those stones. We must lift them, one by one, with steady hands, with hearts that do not yield to resentment. Only then will the well be filled, and confusion may be redeemed. Only then, perhaps, will we be able to build again—not to challenge the heavens, but to dwell upon the earth in peace.”

The old man’s gaze lowered to the sand, as if searching within it for the signs of time to come. No one dared to break the moment. The fire crackled softly, while the desert around them seemed to hold its breath.