Green Desert - Chapter 2.1.1 - Bhanar

I awoke to sunlight. Yellow curtains, flower wallpaper. Where the hell was I? I sat up. The sofa springs squeaked. My trip-clothes bag lay on a magazine-covered coffee table. Someone was whistling in another room.

And then it hit me––the gunfights, the police questioning me far into the night, the kind old couple, the blonde woman. . .

I wore shorts and a tshirt––a different one than last night. The smell of bacon cooking––but no, it wasn’t bacon. My stomach growled anyway. I disentangled my feet from the sheets and blanket, but right before I stood up, a door down the hallway opened and out stepped the blonde––Fírí. She, too, wore different clothes now––gray sweatpants that hid her figure and a small white tshirt that didn’t. As she walked towards me, it was apparent she’d unfortunately put on a bra.

“Nar,” she said, stopping with contraposto and arms akimbo. Barefoot.

“Yeah, what?” Nar is my nickname.

“Don’t stare.” With a flick of her long hair, she strutted off towards the whistling and the almost-bacon.

I hopped up, accompanied by a loud squeak from the couch, and followed her. Green kitchen with white cupboards and a big wood table. Through the screen door, a backyard full of chicken coops, cages, and pens. A pig wandered into view. I turned to Vata by the stove. “What are you cooking?”