"Nothing can deny the truth of a cyclical returning of the species to their primal stages of existence".
Category: Short Tales
The monk, as old as the rocks on those hills, told him that he owned the best souvenir in the whole area, smiling ironically, like a child. Outside the hut, the animals grazed quietly, surrounded by the majestic presence of the Himalayas.
At six AM, nothing seemed extraordinary. With its persistent cold, the dry air lingered above the trees, leftovers of the night for these endless fields.