13

David stared down the long stretch of asphalt, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Ten miles of walking in the heat, with no guarantee of finding a ride, felt like an eternity. He cursed under his breath, kicking the dirt as he began his trek. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He was David, the guy who always had everything under control. Now, reduced to begging for rides, he was just another drifter.

However, for the first time in a long while, David heard silence. It was uncomfortable, making him confront thoughts he’d rather avoid, but out here, there was no escaping them.

As night began to fall, he spotted some houses. His instinct was to keep going, to avoid relying on anyone. But the ache in his legs and the gnawing hunger in his stomach made the decision for him : he decided to ask for a night shelter. Nobody replied. He walked towards the next house and a father, with a sense of despise, refused him “How can you ask for this ?” and slammed the door violently. He approached the farmhouse cautiously and knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered, her face lined with age but her eyes sharp.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone wary. David hesitated, swallowing his pride. “I’m trying to get to town,” he said. “I don’t have any money, but I could really use a place to rest for the night.” The woman studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Come on in.”

David stepped inside, a strange mix of relief and discomfort washing over him. He was used to being in control, but now he had to accept the hospitality of an old woman he barely knew. As he sat down at the small kitchen table, she brought him a bowl of soup and a slice of bread. It was simple, but warm, and it filled the hollow ache in his stomach. He ate in silence, the woman watching him with quiet curiosity.

“What brings you out this way with no money and no place to stay?” she asked gently. “You don’t seem like the kind of man who’s used to roughing it.”

David paused, unsure how much to reveal. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m not used to this at all. I had a… let’s just call it a change of circumstances.”

The woman nodded, as if understanding more than he was saying. “Life has a way of doing that,” she said. “One day, you think you’ve got everything figured out, and the next, it’s all gone. You have to learn to roll with the punches.”

“Out here, we don’t have much, but what we do have, we share. That’s what keeps us going.”

Afterward, the woman led him to a small room with a handmade quilt on the bed, the simplicity of it all bringing unexpected comfort. As sleep finally claimed him, he suddenly felt the warmth of humankind, without any artifice. He had the proof money was not necessary.