Another time, another place.
Pungent wood-smoke.
Cooked spice.
Dust.
The sour odour of tired bodies.
Polished ebony skin.
Proud trees, wizened by a relentless sun, strain under the weight of their bounty. Waxy burnished leaves defy the heat.
Golden yellow orbs hang; tough, noble, ancient. Unblemished, generous skins shield their inner flesh.
Acerbic, sweet.
They wait.
