Chapter 3: The First Break
“Shall we have a break?” asked Sawyer. Although it was more for his sake than for Bergman’s. “My hand is starting to cramp.”
Bergman nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want some tea?”
Sawyer exercised his hand, shaking the tension from it. “I will now, thank you. If you don’t mind.”
Bergman got up without a word. As he set about making the tea, Sawyer read through his notes. Most of what he’d written could have been attributed to any man since everyone started out in life more or less the same way. He could remember his journey across the Border Sea as if it were yesterday, and the warmth of his mother as she held him close to her. Her soft voice singing him gentle songs until he drifted off to sleep. These were treasures more valuable than any material object.
