Chapter 7 of The Storm

He spent most of his time at that place. He sat there for hours on end. His gaze had gone from an immediate place somewhere in front of him to a far off distance. He didn't talk much. He gave up his bows and arrows. Nobody spoke to him, they would rush by calling their children close, there were others now. Some birds swooped at him. He maintained a silence that was deafening.


Black was the color of his clothing. Black was his hair. Nobody trusted him. Things happened around him, unnatural things. Coincidence and chaos collided. They used to greet him in the town and he would reciprocate. But the accidents started to happen and eventually no-one wanted to cross the path he walked. He was reviled.


Everyday he walked to his sitting place and took his seat. Now there were more huts in the village and his favorite place had a building to one side of it. From morning to nightfall he was seen on his chair from his left,dressed in black and completely still.

That's all there is to know about that man.