The Little Boy - part one

When the stranger entered the village, dozens of children came running. Each one was holding out his hand and asking for a coin. The stranger felt compassion in his heart and removed his pouch. One coin for each right hand. This was the way he would not pay a clever child twice.

“That’s all.” He shouted with a deep timbre that dispersed the crowd instantly.

The pack of children disappeared as quickly as it had formed. One young boy in a tattered shirt and a with hole in his shorts, stopped in mid flight. He turned back and took three small steps towards the stranger. He smiled.

“Thank you, sir.” Then he was gone.

The stranger walked into the village and observed what he could.   No fine garments. A humble town. People working, so there was work to be had. A few bars and taverns, with customers… wasteful men, drinking in the mid-day.

The market, was a hot street, where merchants selling everything. He wanted nothing, except to be refreshed. He sat at the well and a young woman drew some water. She said nothing, as she set the bucket on the bench.

“Drink, sir.” She broke the silence. “You are thirsty, and you are kind. Let me repay kindness to you.”
“Kind?” the stranger replied.

“The angels are not the only ones that observe what you do.”  She smile, but looked down and away. “People watch. People talk. Everyone sees. Nothing is hidden.” She looked up briefly “Drink, sir, and fill your skin.”

The stranger drank. “Thank you.” He took water for the journey, then turned to go. He did not look back. She was right. Everyone sees. He saw too. She was beautiful.

Out of the city gates. Gone.

He would return.