It sits on the plain like an oil tanker at anchor, and the view from its peak reveals
something like an
ocean caught in freeze frame, an undulating, unpopulated vista, unpopulated except for
wild horses and the shadows of single clouds sliding over the surface like dark slugs.
If people could see tuna living
wild in the
ocean and understand the miracle of their existence they might worship them for
something other than the taste of their flesh.