"It's over, it's over…!"
After watering the last potato sprout, Francisca threw the bucket toward the corner of the field.
Finally, this crap was over.
As soon as she thought of it, a heavy feeling of exhaustion overtook her. All day long she had worked with a heavy bucket, so that was normal.
Francesca walked toward the village, her torso limp.
Kieran had already finished his work and returned.
'He could have helped if his was over.'
Went off to have a good time alone.
Where did you see, a Hero, in that?
The place she was walking to, grumbling, was a shabby house located in the corner of the village. The house where an old woman who had lost all of her children lived. People said she had also passed away due to some illness not long ago.
'Why must they give us a house like that…'
There must be many other nice houses!
As she grumbled, stomping into the house, Kieran greeted her.
"You came at just the right time. Dinner's done. Eat."
