Yves was recounting stories of his many travels in Botswana and South Africa. Now retired, he was enjoying the peace of his paradise while his lifelong honesty allowed him to reap the benefits of his labours. Listening to him, Talya was drawn by the sagacity of the man. Every word he spoke was as if written or recited from recalled poetry.
When he looked at Talya, she chanced the question, “Did you ever think of writing a book about your adventures?”
“Yes I did. A long time ago, someone I led through a safari asked me to send him stories. He was a publisher of some sort. I did send him a few pages occasionally, but he never responded, so I stopped.”
“Perhaps, I could hunt him down for you, if you’d like to start writing again?”
“No. I don’t think it is worth the bother. I’m not wor
