When There Is Nothing Left But Love

Nora turned to me and queried, “Scarlett, if we indeed get to go home this time around, what would you want to do most of all?”

What did I want? That question lingered in my mind as I continued trudging forward, deep in thought.

There wasn’t any food I was especially craving. After a moment’s pause, I concluded, “I want to see the person I miss most, give him a hug, and apologize to him face-to-face.”

Nora seemed taken by surprise. Then she curiously pressed, “Is it somebody you’re in love with?”

I gave her a faint smile but declined to reply.

Night had fallen when we finally reached saw signs of human life. The village we’d arrived at was located in quite a rural area of the mountains, and perhaps due to its inaccessibility, there didn’t seem to be many inhabitants around.

From the number of lamps we’d counted shining in the dark, there were probably thirty to forty households scattered throughout the village.

“Let’s find a place to hunker down for the night,” Nora suggested, already making her way towards the door of the nearest cottage.

“Woof! Woof!” A dog suddenly rushed out into the yard and began sounding the alert at our sudden intrusion.

We clung to each other, terrified. Fortunately, the dog was leashed to a rope. It strained against its tether, barking continuously.

The owner of the cottage had evidently heard the ruckus. Out stepped a middle-aged man with tan, weathered skin.

say. After a while,

hadn’t brought us any closer to home. We’d

our confused faces, the owner of the cottage seemed to further mistake our intentions. He waved his axe at us threateningly in a bid to chase

of age, ran out of the cottage just then. She tugged at the man’s

for a while. He then

turned toward us and gestured. Uncomprehendingly, Tabitha made a few

did, however, let us

was a dismal sight and stripped down within. Its clay walls were caked with soot, doubtless from the fire that

hung from the ceiling, the sort that farming villages would have used decades ago. The lamp burned dimly at a bare fifty watts, probably to save on electricity costs. Shadows

cottage was, in fact, a tent stitched together out of gunny sacks.

small heaps of blackened dirt that covered the tent looked sure to

from

language barrier, the man continued to gesture furiously. He seemed to be inviting us

the bowls in front of us. The food was steeped in chili. Nora recoiled ever so slightly, asking,

starting dish. Shall we try it?” Tabitha exclaimed rather adventurously. She had more of an appetite than the rest of us for more exotic

a whole day, we dug in rather gratefully. The flavor of the

days since we’d really tasted anything. The

squatted in a corner. They gazed at us with curiosity and awe, mixed

Nora persisted in her attempts to communicate with them. Along with her hand signals, she deliberately spoke a few basic words, emphasizing each

both father and daughter came to understand that we were here to borrow