My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

As expected in rural areas, the man's house only had a single room. The walls of the house was a little black, probably because of the smoke from the fireplace.

The sole light source was an incandescent roof lamp used in villages during the nineties. For the sake of saving electricity, the light was only about fifteen watts and was dim. There were pots, bowls and ladles placed in a heap, all next to a tent that had been set up with sacks. Dust had fallen around it and there was rain water seeping in. Layers of gray, damp soil were piled up on top of the tent. They looked dark, and it seemed as if there were bugs growing out if it.

The middle-aged man took out two bowls of food from a black wooden cabinet and placed them in front of us. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Since there was no way to communicate verbally, the man gesticulated a few times. Perhaps he was asking us to eat.

Naomi stared at the chili- filled dishes with a stunned expression and asked, "What kind of dish is this?"

"This is pickled melon. It's hot here, but this helps to relieve the heat, and it's a good appetizer. Try it!" Tina grew up in the southwest region, so she knew a thing or two about food around the area.

We had starved for a whole day, so we ate after giving our thanks. The melon was sour to the tongue, and a little spicy as well.

We hadn't been able to eat much in the past few days, but it was a blessing to finally satisfy our hunger.

sitting beside each other, looking at us. There was

speak our language, so

planned to

however, as if they

tomorrow to ask the other villagers. The five of us stayed under the broken roof and rested for the night. After all, it was better than staying in the

yard, climbing up a tree

picked up the mangoes after him,

time she picked one up, she looked back at us and smiled brightly,

huh?" Tina

frame and raised her eyebrows. "Why? Remember something

we'd been through, I realized something. Our lives are our own, right? Why should

the word of God!"

"God this, God

straight to the yard, picking up the mangoes on the