Episode 54

Homeless

Droma holds out the wooden bowl and waits for it to be filled.

Someone nudges him from behind and he realises the bowl is full and the server is looking at him, not unkindly. He goes and sits down at the table with the others. The old timber is worn smooth. The bowl is hot, warming his hands. Bits of green vegetables and gristle float on the surface, the smell is wholesome. He looks for a spoon, then remembers that there aren’t any. He sips the soup like everyone else, and munches the cucumber in his other hand. It is cool, crispy.

The cuts on his hands are healing. They’d been smeared with a thick cream, now mostly gone. He remembers that at least. The stern woman who helped him with his wounds and then firmly gestured for him to leave.

He hears the bells of the temple, and gets up and puts the empty bowl with the others.

Above the grey-green trees of the courtyard he can see the ziggurat.