The moment the voting results were announced, the sun in Barcelona had just crested the spires of the Sagrada Familia Cathedral, dyeing the blue and yellow flags in the square a golden red.
"It passed!" someone shouted, holding up a sample ballot, only to be swallowed by a more tumultuous cheer. Independence supporters hugged one another, tears mingling with sweat as they waved the Catalonia flag and sang the song that had been repeated countless times at rallies, as if they could already touch the contours of a newborn nation.
But on the fringe of the square, behind the windows that had the Spanish flag hung last night, someone quietly drew the curtains. An elderly white-haired man gazed at the noisy crowd, his fingertips repeatedly caressing a Spanish national emblem souvenir on the windowsill, releasing a barely audible sigh from his throat.
The news shot toward Madrid like a current, and the phone at the Prime Minister's Mansion rang almost the moment the result was confirmed.
