Bridge of Question

A lone figure stands on a mossed stone bridge at sunset, hat low and a blunt horn raised like a clandestine semaphore. A copper-hued dragon hangs in the flushed sky while the river below spells out WHERE VOJTA? in floating letters that shimmer as an accusation. The light makes the crossing feel sacred and suspicious at once, a threshold where signal meets omen. The horn reads as spycraft — a crude transmitter from someone used to disguises and doubled meanings — yet nothing proved that the call altered the sky, and the scene might be replayed backward to make sense of cause and effect. Vojta remains unfound; the river's question and the man's stance are all that answer the search party's silence. The tableau broods on that failure, numinous and defiant, an altar of doubt on the border between plain fact and myth.