What makes a book the greatest of a generation? A book buried under thousands of paper-bricks, so ornate any typical description will end up lacking, souls eternally trapped in it, its dusty pages craving human touch. Somewhere far from god, immortal words gushing out of its crack, and it's only the beginning. Below are few random snippets... A cargo ship anchored at the southernmost city of the world is headed my way. Only after a month of membership, you were allowed to have a complete tour of the place. I looked up and I saw a kaleidoscope of blue butterflies mid-flight. He is living in the ruins of a mansion (once great) outside of the city. At nights, she went to another world in their arms. On hilltops enjoying naked ballerinas performing pirouettes to the sunset casting myriad hues. I am tired of only dreaming. During particular winters, twice every century, snowflakes do not land on the ground. God is lonely, God is very lonely. A colony of nosey penguins welcomes me as soon as I land. All he sees is my mask and my black long coat fluttering around me.