Migrants by Giacomo Piccoli
On a stage with no scenery, in the darkness of a symbolic night, a glimpse of exhausted bodies can be caught. They are probably adrift on a imaginary inflatable raft. Hopeful souls intersect, hoping to land on a supposedly safe shore. Desperate clandestines almost seem to be involved in an ancient and terrible propitiatory rite, including deaths and painful sacrifices, with visions of apocalyptic misfortune, to reach a promise land that will inevitably impose new exploitation, tribalism and vexation.
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