Five great stones splitted a lone river. Right in the middle lied the biggest, yet the generous one. As I had walked for nine-hundreds steps under the knee-height water surface, I became slower than a band of snails. There, on the great stone I leaned. With all hopeless staring at high, high skyscrapers. My sweats ran dry like flood in rainy season, my throat was left nothing but the drought. Yet, the steps would have been twenty-fold of I had crawled from the river bank. To wipe the wet forehead, to scrap the dirts on shoulders unifying with the...