Under the moon and stars, there was a giant boulder that was dug-out from the inside as a temporary shelter.
A flat stone slab was used as a door. Across the small gap, one could see shadows and embers moving inside.
There were three individuals resting in the stone house. A pot sat above a makeshift campfire and was brewing pleasant-smelling fish soup.
Two of them were sleeping on the ground, while the third one was a man in a tattered robe who was tending to their meal.
What was exposed from under his robe—a smooth, tender hand—had bugs and maggots climbing on it. One of his hands was dropping some powder-like substance on the ground to attract more worms to go inside the soup.
Someone moaned behind him.
"You alright, Freud?" The robed figure didn't look back. "So, did you read anything?"
His voice was gruff and harsh like someone who smoked too much in his life.
