A little Neanderthal narration

From the Jojova tree Jemuel was coming, walking with a cane in his hand, his shadow projected three legs across the yellowish valley.
His yellowish donkey followed Jemuel with humble calm and penile erection.

The old and blind man, seated at the door of his house built in bodoke and ox shit asked him:

-"Jemuel, if seven trumpets sound for the ones who cannot hear
and seven lightnings strike for the ones who cannot see
which time will be the right tyme?"

The young man left the erect donkey tied to a fig-tree, did spit on the cracked terrain of Phallustein, and did draw an enigmatic symbol on the mud.

The Suns were falling down hermetically toward their tomb: the starry night of the desert
the conchoid, black sky itself.