A thinnest sliver of new moonlight at the horn tips of mule deer turned toward us, their dark eyes don’t know our dry heels imitate the mountains. – Farid Matuk Iridescent flowers lined up the sea. Buckets of joy poured in his heart. Quickly, he tried to board the boat. There seemed to be a glitter of diamond in his eyes as he had a nutmeg reminiscence of his days at Furth. The smell of memory deep within him, he paddled the boat away from the shore. He scratched his wide, curled moustache and thought about the possibility of finding the white triangular stone. The thick animal skin he wore covered his neck down to his knees. And in his mouth was a piece of bone which he chewed with great relish. His arms and legs, which were left uncovered, showed him to be a man of great hair.…