Of all gods he is the one closest to humankind. Every word that escapes us is taken up by him and recorded in his files. This index is in continual expansion and reaches up into the clouds. Every day he travels the corridors of his records searching for the perfect adverbial imprint of the grey shades of being. He has begun to spell his way though the collected vocabularies of the world, living and dead, in addition to the lexicon of heaven. In Azerbaijan there are no adverbs, merely meandering circumlocutions embedded elsewhere in the language. The god of Adverbs finds this deeply distressing. The adverb is the part of speech pertaining to afterthought. When the adverb surfaces in human language childhood is over. We are left with overlapping grey areas within the domain of reason and ruminative gap between question and answer. Truths have a short half-life This is his gospel. He sees our need to formulate the world, but it is his calling to mis give what is given, and he can only enlighten those who seek enlightenment. When he speaks, his vowels are subdued and his consonants are pebbles scattered over a large plain of shifting nuances. He hides in thunderstorms and fears the cleft tongue of lightning, it is too explicit. He finds shelter in a soft soothing mist. All he leaves behind is the sound of tentative footsteps.
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