top of page
VII: COMPANIONS
The hut was just a vacant space, save for a makeshift straw bed pushed against the side of the east wall. At night, the incessant howling of the desert winds keep Good company, a foreboding reminder of the civilisation’s worsening predicament. For Good, staying awake was the only way to stop the haunting nightmares.
A single light rap on the wooden door snapped Good out of their daily meditation. Despite the late hour, there was no need for introductions — Good knew exactly who it was and took three unhurried breaths.
“Come in. I’ve been expecting you.”
The door swung open, and a weary figure made his way into the abode. Outside, a sand storm was brewing in the distance, sending particles swirling through the thick air. A jovial bustle could still be heard from a nearby village settling in for the night. The visitor closed the door and took a seat on a five-legged stool facing Good. He looked unwell and smelled even worse.
“How… did you know I would come?” the figure rasped between uneven breaths. He sounded worried, like he was about to regret his decision.
Leaning slightly forward, Good peered into the figure’s sunken eyes. Even under the weak moonlight, Good saw it clearly. It was the unmistakable gaze of inexplicable pain and sorrow.
bottom of page