by Rose Postma In the seven days it took Utnapishtim's hired craftsmen to build his reed-stitched boat, Noah must have wandered over late at night to check his competition out: examining mortise and tenon, measuring the span of the joists, wishing he had more help than three elderly sons. Did sweat salt Utnapishtim's eyes as he helped his men ache the craft over a road of poles, down to the still-smooth Euphrates, or was it just the first drops of…
Rose PostmaJanuary 1, 2014