When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

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.

of us understood what he was trying to say. After a while, Tabitha gasped. “We might have unknowingly crossed the border

The arduous journey we’d made, crossing peak after peak, hadn’t brought us any closer to home. We’d even gone so far

all into disarray. Upon seeing our confused faces, the owner of the cottage seemed to further mistake our

young woman, approximately sixteen years of age, ran out of

woman urgently conferred with the man for a while. He then grew noticeably calmer and lowered the axe

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

did, however, let us into

entered was a dismal sight and stripped down within. Its clay walls

from the ceiling, the sort that farming villages would have used decades ago. The lamp burned

a tent stitched together out of gunny sacks. There was dust everywhere. It turned

dirt that covered the tent looked sure to be full of

two bowls from a cabinet and placed them

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

bowls in front of us. The food was steeped in chili. Nora

I think it’s supposed to be a starting dish. Shall we try it?” Tabitha exclaimed rather adventurously.

The flavor of the pickled onions, spicy with

a few days since we’d really tasted anything. The pickled

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

their uneasiness, Nora persisted in her attempts to communicate with them. Along with her hand signals, she deliberately spoke a

worked. Somehow, both father and daughter came to understand that we were here to borrow a device to