"These kinds of encounters happen rarely in the course of one's life, especially mundane people like myself" said Viola with a wry smile, as she sipped on her concoction. Nile saw the statement and understood it as an invitation to comment, but, as has been his habit lately, he chose not to engage. He stayed silent, laying on a straw bed. Viola did not seem to mind. It was not conversation she was after, but listening ears. "This land has been through a great deal of sorrow" she continued, "Half of it has already been forgotten. It makes my heart ache" Nile picked up his bowl and sipped a bit. It had a foul but familiar taste, and a smell that reminded him of his home on the hillside. He looked at Viola, a middle-aged woman with fire-red hair and smart features. Her skin was a bit lighter than his but still dark, and she had on a rugged crimson gown that matched her eyes. She took his look as an invitation to carry on the story. ''When Khen
Short stories about bounty hunters