WISH YOU A HAPPY NEW YEAR Under a thick cover of brown soil, a solitary Red Lucky Seed closed its eyes. Then it opened those eyes and closed them again. It was only darkness. Be it closed or opened; it was dark. Its nostrils, tired of inhaling the ancient scent of dehydrated soil, were numb. For the last time, in the severe pain of compression on its dry skin, it heard the call of conscience again. A faint cry, from its core, of life that was about to end, the weak call from within for a holy birth. The thirsty seed cried out loudly in that pain of abandonment. There was no one to here. That cry was not strong enough to reach the ears of the great clouds in the vast sky that stood like a silver umbrella over the dark earthen veil that covered the humble seed. Waiting for the inevitable end, and intensely dreaming of a brown-eyed raindrop, the Red Lucky Seed closed its eyes again. Not a drop of rain came in search of the lonely and worthless seed, so insignificant as one of the multi-