There were two wooden huts in the yard; one was a residence, the other served as a storeroom. Having walked only a few steps, Colonel Alec had thoroughly inspected both huts inside and out.
Apart from the rudimentary tables and chairs, and a wardrobe, there was no other furniture in the room. Although indoors, it resembled a desolate wilderness.
The oil lamp, covered in cobwebs, had been discarded in the corner, its wick long dried out. With the sun setting in the west, there was no source of light inside the cabin, dark as a cave.
Colonel Alec couldn't help frowning and asked, "How can you live here?"
John Jeska, steadying himself against the wall, shuffled his feet little by little, eventually seating himself back on the stool beside the dining table, retorted, "It's my home. If I don't live here, where should I?"
"An officer lives in a place like this?"
