The Tri-Indoc Nation

It had been an exhausting day. He drifted to sleep, slowly and then all at once, consciousness entering the door with a burst of wind and hanging up his coat, tired and ready for bed.

He slept and drempt. He sat in a wicker chair before an empty fireplace and a wooden coffee table.

Soon came to him a woman in coarse rags carrying a cup. There was water inside. The boy gulped thirstily.

He saw a book on the table and grabbed it. It was about the North.

How crazy, he thought, were those abolitionsits. Demanding an end to bondage.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, astonished by human impressionability.