The Storytellers

It is early morning, and the haunting cry of the muezzin drifts in the air above the city of Fez, Morocco. Abdul and his grandfather are walking to work-past souk after souk of carpet sellers and weavers, leatherworkers and metalsmiths, then out throughthe ancient gate. Spreading a carpet on the ground, they wait for a crowd to gather. And then, at least, Grandfather begins: "This happened, or maybe it did not..."