Empty string

He sat in a cave that shelters him from the worlds, amidst its humidity and the echo of water drops falling from the ceiling's projections into youthful lakes that started from a point.. He opened his bag and took out his papers, the inkpot, and a freshly plucked feather, and began to write what his chest was uttering: I am nobody.. I am "Jinn bin Farhad" Author: Mubarak Al-Areefaan Publisher: Center for Arab Literature Number of pages: 344