Since the incident that night, Parsha had been in a daze for the past few days.
Although his daily routine was still to sit at his doorstep, smoking his pipe and arguing over trivial matters with Dim from the house next door, in his spare moments, he found himself unconsciously gazing in the direction of Pat Manor, pondering the situation within.
That afternoon, since Dim had gone to the forge to work on a new batch of farm tools, Parsha had no one to banter with. After lunch, he didn't sit at the doorway but instead slightly opened a window slit and stared blankly towards the manor.
"You're of an age now, knowing full well your health isn't good, yet you still open the window to let in a streak of cold air in the dead of winter." A faint sound came from behind him; turning around, he saw Goldie sitting on the glass lampshade of the oil lamp.
