ABSTRACT
Capitano Ottavio's post-picnic brawl and, what we read next, the White Angel intrigue have, as stories, traits in common. Both microhistories watch carefully as protagonists converge on a tight space and there create a moment. We anatomise in the first tale a stone fight, in the second, a gathering to consult an elusive spirit, to unlock a secret about the future. So both chapters strive to describe and place the participants, lay them in their ambient spaces, and follow them as their paths converge, their actions mesh, and, together, they fashion the event that, although they shape it, like a cresting roller crashing beachwards also tumbles them. So, in both essays, the event itself is active; it shifts things around.
