It’s like a dream. Or a nightmare. It’s mysterious, ominous. We’re in the centre of a prison court. The concrete walls are lined with male prisoners. Everything is quiet. Not even birds can be heard. A white cow stands in the centre of the court. We move closer and closer to it, until the camera brutally cuts.
I have to think of sacrifices, of the slaughtering of cows. I have to think of offerings to the powers that be. Sacrifices — the killing of the innocent to appease a God or another higher . . .
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