Chapter 11: Fouling Provisions

The incessant thrum of her heart, pumping life through her body, was as inevitable as the changing of the seasons.        

Andile was seated across from her in the eternally jolting carriage, quietly flipping the pages of his book. Liziwe’s attention shifted gradually from the outer world to his person. Like a cat she watched him, eyeing his every movement; but he paid her no heed. Indeed, even if there had not been another soul with him in that cabin, he could have not have acted more as if he were entirely alone. He might have been a handsome man, she thought, if his disposition had not been so frighteningly unpredictable, his smiles so alarming. As he read, she watched his dark eyes flick across the page, absorbing the words as if they could be swallowed. And all the while he did not move, save for the careful turning of a page, and the measured movement of his eyes. No flash of pearly whites appeared between his