What are you afraid of? what might be ? What might not be?. Mascerading in this parade, the bull fixated on the red. Allowing the cloth to influence his head, impulsivley he charges, with horns he lead, a cycle of the unread, wil always return when left unfed.  Traumatized by the veil he now takes it step, by step. Reliving the memory of each time he wept. he...