You are dust and to dust you will return
I love walking through the beautiful countryside surrounding Curahuasi: clean air, great views and normally you have the path to yourself. You could easily have missed the hole near the path had it not been for the human bones that were piled up next to it. More bones were piled on top of each other in the hole itself. Any anatomy student would have had best visual materials at hand to prepare for his/her exam. If this student has philosophical nous, (s)he would understand a bit more of the mortality of humankind. Criminal detectives on the other hand would ask many questions and use their expertise to answer them.
In Curahuasi no one seems to be interested in my ghastly discovery. Are we perhaps standing next to the remains of former monks? It is a well known fact that there was a Jesuit missionary station near Curahuasi. We are left in the dark. The Curahuasi police force have not come and Sherlock Holmes is nowhere to be seen.
I continue slowly on my walk. In the figurative sense our own future laughed us in the face. How true the words of the old black book: “What is man that you think of him?”