Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
And then the job is done, more or less, and I’m free to spend the rest of my day however I please. It’s just that…I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t want to seem too eager. I don’t want to show up on Melody’s doorstep right away because waiting seems like the smarter thing to do. There’s nothing but my bed and my clothes in my room at the crew dormitory, so I wander about Port for a bit, watching the humans as they move around. Some are scared at the sight of me, so I get a table at the cantina and people-watch out the window instead. There are so many human women here. Lord va’Rin must have been collecting them for a long time.
One of the custodians comes over to me and I show him my identification and my work credentials. It annoys me to be treated like a criminal, but then I remember the frightened faces of the human women as they scurried to cross the street away from me, and I’m no longer annoyed. I finish my brew, clean my table, and then head over to the store because I’d promised Melody more noodles. As I cross the street to the store, a breeze drifts over my skin. I glance up at the blue skies overhead and a tiny native bird of some kind flies past. In the distance, I can smell grass and greenery. It’s nice here. Quiet. Calming. I like it here.
If I’m being honest with myself, this could be an absolute shithole and I’d like it here because Melody is here.
In the store, I grab all of the noodles that won’t make me puff up like a splice gone wrong. I pick through all the counters of human things, but I don’t know what sorts of stuff Melody likes. Just noodles, I tell myself, as I bring a few dozen bags of noodles to the front counter. I hesitate, and then throw in a couple of bowls and some eating sticks.
The avian shopkeep rings me up. “Humans like mugs, you know.”
“Mugs?” I ask.
He points at the stand of squat drinking vessels in front of a rack of candles. “Those. They love them.”
I end up getting two. Just in case she needs them.
As I head out with my purchases, I see a human with a cart full of fresh vegetables. She shrinks back when I pause in front of her, and I take a step back to give her space. “I am having dinner with a friend. Do you have anything that’s good in noodles?”
A short time later, I’ve bought a bag full of fresh veg and even though it’s early, I head back over to Melody’s room in the boarding house. She opens the door, breathless and slightly disheveled. “Hi! Come in. I was just cleaning up.”
I step inside her small quarters and notice that she has indeed been cleaning. The kitchen area is tidy, and all of the scrap in her room has been pushed to one side while the tiny table and chair is set near the bed. A garish red and black board of some kind sits atop it, along with many red and black discs.
“You brought all this for me?” she asks, taking one of the bags from my hands.
“Since we couldn’t eat the noodles you have, I thought replacements would be best. Do you add veg to yours?” When she shakes her head, I smile. “Let me show you how to make the noodles even better, then.”
Melody puts her hands on my back and gives me a gentle shove towards the kitchen. “You’re officially in charge of cooking.”
It’s nice to wash and chop veg and talk with her as I work. I’ve been so solitary all my life that it’s difficult at first, to talk to another person in the midst of preparing food. But when I see how intently she’s listening, and when I elicit a tiny chuckle from her, I’m addicted. I end up rambling about my first experience with fresh veg while on a farming planet, and how it changed me.
Melody puts away the rest of the things I’ve brought and then exclaims over the mugs. “Oh, I love these! Perfect for tea!”
Huh. That shopkeep was right.
Once the noodles and veg are put into two bowls, I hand her one and a pair of eating sticks. She takes the bowl from me with a tiny smile of pleasure and then holds it out. “To friendship.”
I echo her movements. “To friendship.”
We stand in the kitchen and slurp our food, and she makes appreciative sounds as she eats. “So tell me about your horns,” she says between sucking down noodles.
“My horns?”
She waves her sticks at me. “I’m learning about you. Tell me about your horns. How’d you lose them?”