Sleep evaded him the rest of the night. At dawn, he finally relented, rose from his bed, and went downstairs for coffee and the Prophet. He knew there wasn’t much truth left to the Prophet, but read for any hint of her. Sightings, whisperings, anything pointing him toward the elusive golden girl. He set aside the paper and picked up the sleek magazine featuring a cover story on transmutations of exotic metals within the mines of Africa.