She was a young woman who farmed alone on the flat plains of the now silent bullet stained fields of the Northern province of Sri Lanka. It had been seven years now since she had fired a gun. But for 7 years prior she became a warrior. At the age of 14 she was conscripted, trained and sent to war. After seven years of fighting alongside her parents, they were transferred to a different division…

The beast was a buffalo and the buffalo was a cow, she was black and in the wet season she looked shiny and could sparkle like the skies in the middle of the night with no moon. Today the buffalo too looked tired and dirty, but her patience and love for the young woman was always available, like a friend who’s light was always on. The young woman was slim and fit with long thin muscles that could be seen on her arms and face. Her hair was always pulled back and often messy with sweat and dirt holding the black strands against her face; periodically being smeared away by her hand that was strong and rough from working hard dirt with the heavy tools…

Tamilya sipped her tea and stared, the two men had finished their meals and conversation. The full laminex table messy with empty bottles and plates, the chairs reverberated loudly as they got up. She liked the look of his cargo shorts and collard business shirt, with the shape of his back, there was size and strength to his stance. She wanted him, to talk to him, more than she wanted anything, she wanted him.