The Minaret - El alminar
The Minaret Dusk was falling. The last rays of the sun bathed the slender silhouette of the lonely minaret. Soon, the muezzin would call the faithful to prayer. A few moments earlier, an almost invisible crack had run down the western face of the minaret, from its summit to the ground, accompanied by a deep, muffled moan. As far back as he could remember, the muezzin had devoted his life to the prayers offered in the square watched over by the minaret. He was about to make his way to the square when an unsettling feeling came over him. He had heard of the death of minarets. All those sacred places, after devoting their existence to summoning the faithful to prayer, eventually died. And his own had wanted to tell him something. He made his way to the magnificent square, where the faithful were beginning to gather beneath the majestic tower. The muezzin wanted to be beside his minaret. With determined steps, he began to climb the steep staircase. Just as he was about to re...