Author: Mason Balouchian
He shifted the suitcase on his shoulder and looked at the narrow road disappearing into the forest. The occasional chatter of birds disturbed the silence of the isolated road. It was getting dark. The echo of his steps scared away the unseen beasts behind the bushes. A feeble light among the trees came into view just before the fall of night. There was a cottage in the clearing. He went to the door and knocked.
“Come in,” a voice said.
He entered. An old man, sitting before a fireplace and tending a pot lifted his head for a moment and looked at him. He put his suitcase down and rubbed his hands.
“Come sit here—I was expecting you,” the old man said showing a bench with his eyes.
Startled by the old man’s remark, he sat on the bench near the fire and remained silent. The pleasant smell of soup filled the room. He stopped looking at the old man and turned his attention to the room furnishings. It was a log cabin. The furniture was simple, but the room was unusually orderly…