“Pierre, the food is ready.” 

She sounded like Mom. In Citiland, Mom would call me to come down from my room to have dinner. After work, she would quickly whip up something delicious for the three of us. That, or she would have guests over. 

By the bonfire, smelling of roses, Grace Mo boiled green tea in a makeshift teapot and was ready with roasted fish from the river. I ran over to her with the rabbit caught in the trap near the growth of thorns that ...