Firdausi Cedar is an Afghan, silk calm and long memoried, elegant even in market dust. There is a small notebook Firdausi Cedar carries, half theories about the flooded market halls and half crumbs. Bakers slip Firdausi Cedar the fresher biscuits near the swamp shrine and pretend they did not. Firdausi Cedar suspects the old world left at least one good question lying around with that exact name written on it.