Olympus

backlit in the warm wash of divine fire, prone upon a well-grooved stone, Lindsey lay on the mountainside, lulling to sleep with the murmur of voices and hushed roaring of geothermal flames...beside her a quiet, self-contained German girl, also reposed. two austrians, me, and a Turk closer to the flames, upright, fervor-fed by the several fires dotting the mountain and eyes. "I am not sleepy," the Turk. Nor, nor, nor. Gnoshing the Nar (pomegranate) we'd liberated from the trailside trees.