( Spice is for the best. Feeding, likewise. And this man, to know the nature of the bazaars, clearly —

Ah, but then it strikes him, slap to his cheek. You perished of starvation. So often, the root of hardship chases the dead to usurp their peace. It cannot be spoken, not with spirits so often lent to turbulence, to dismay. It would only assault this man's senses, to recall his ignominy. All the same, tenderer: )

We shall have more rice to warm you. ( To fill your belly, for all there is no sealing a void. ) Bear until rains break.