Transcription: Late last night, I woke again to the sound, the dull low cadence I've been hearing for weeks. I couldn't sleep so I got up and walked along the North Mesa, the valley below lit by the crack of heat lightning. The Indians tell me it's the Hammers of Kamali I'm hearing, the mythical blacksmith forging the stars one by one. It could be right. Around here you don't have to look up to see the stars. They're everywhere. This evening, I thought I heard the sound coming from the kiva on the north wall. I took the elevator up to the ledge. I thought if I were to go there alone, I might find the one thi ...
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