God And The Cobbler

God and The CobblerNothing seemed to belong to him. He sat on a strip of no man's land between the outer wall of the temple and the street. The branch of a margosa tree peeping over the wall provided the shade and shook down on his head tiny whitish-yellow flowers all day. "Only the gods in heaven can enjoy the good fortune of a rain of flowers," thought the hippie observing him from the temple steps, where he had stationed himself since the previous evening. No need to explain who the...