دانلود رمان انگلیسی “دیوانه پرخوری” – جلد 2

I PUT MY HAND on an old, well-worn door, a door I’d known since my youth. It creaked as I pushed it open. Inside our house sat my father, resting on a chair. By his side, against the wall, lay his trusty spear, worn with use. The spear’s blade was sticky with blackened blood. My father’s face was pallid and his arm bore a deep wound. One short glance was more than enough to tell me that he had battled monsters on his way home. I ran to his side, worried. “Dad! Are you all right?!” I cried. My father replied with a chuckle. “This little scratch? It’s nothing serious.” He always tried to play down the severity of his wounds, but even as a child I knew better. I hurried to draw fresh water from the well outside. The water was so cold that it numbed my hands. I hauled the heavy bucket back inside and began to clean my father’s cut. His grimace when the rag touched his flesh confirmed my fears; this wound was no mere scratch. Our village was known for a medicinal plant called “miel.” Most local families kept a stock of miel, and we were no different. I fetched the leaves from a shelf in our back room and crushed them to a paste, then rubbed the paste over my father’s wound before bandaging it. My father watched in silence while I worked. Only when I finished tying the bandage did he open his mouth to speak.