Is it mean to torture our readers with hints?

  Is it wrong that I like it?

  It’s a perverse pleasure.

  Am I a sadist now?

  - Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2780)

  “Hey, off sphere—whatcha doin' with all that food?” A high-pitched voice interrupted my thoughts as I made my way home from the market after work, laden with bags of fresh produce.

  Ritsken had helped me get a low-stress job in the gardens six weeks ago, and I didn’t interact with people much, but my conversational skills were slowly moving from barely passable to almost competent.

  I was pretty sure I could talk to the cheeky little boy, but wasn’t sure if he’d added, “Making dinner? Got a date?” So I asked slowly, “Can you tell me what you said in Universal?”

  He laughed, “You making dinner? Can I have some?”

  I giggled, “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Tonino,” he said with a huge grin.

  I wondered if his friends had dared him to talk to the weird off-sphere lady or something. He looked maybe eight or nine years old, and I could sense something mischievous coming off of him.

  “Are you hungry, Tonino?”

  But instead of answering, he pointed at my doorstep, “Hey! There’s Paulo!”

  “Paulo?” I wondered, then noticed the white mirka with the brown ear by my front door. I hadn’t seen the friendly creature in weeks.

  “Oh!” I asked, “His name's Paulo?”

  “Yeah, he’s Luchian’s mirka.”

  Tonino muttered something about Luchian, then darted off.

  Paulo kept sitting by my door as I approached, so I started talking to him.

  “Hello, little friend.” He took a few steps down the street, then stopped and turned to look at me.

  “What are you doing tonight, Paulo? Do you wanna come in? Do you like melons?”

  His tail was towards me, his face watching me keenly, but he didn’t follow me in.

  After shutting my bags inside, I started towards Paulo, and he sauntered down the street, looking over his shoulder at me every now and then.

  “I’m coming with you, Paulo,” I assured him, but I was cautious since I didn’t want to be out at night somewhere I didn’t know well. I hadn’t wandered this direction very often because it was away from the village center, and it would be dark soon.

  We'd only been walking a few blocks when an elderly woman was picking Marion berries along the street, and Paulo stopped. The lady turned to me and pointed to an empty basket, but didn’t say a word.

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  “You need help picking berries?” I asked.

  She nodded, so I picked up the basket and started filling it with the dark purple-black fruit. There was no sight of Paulo anymore. What a strange evening.

  I wasn’t sure if I should try to make polite conversation in Shurwinn with the berry-picking lady. Should I try asking her questions? Just tell her I needed to practice conversational language skills?

  Argh! It was always so awkward. Every interaction I had with people felt this same way. Me never knowing if I should try making polite conversation, feeling awkward about my supernatural senses, and them totally clueless about my turmoil.

  I could sense the woman's mind and feelings, and I didn’t like that one bit, but she wasn’t worried about anything at all. My senses told me she was 100% relaxed in the cooling evening.

  Curious to see where this was going, I stayed quiet.

  When my basket was about 3/4 full, the lady turned to me and said pointedly, “Siblin Lone Warrior Nun” in Shurwinn.

  My eyebrows shot up, but before I could ask what she meant, she went inside and shut the door. Hunh?

  I was standing there looking at the door, and down to the basket in my hands, then around the street, when I heard, “You lost, off sphere?”

  The voice belonged to a smartly dressed young guy—maybe seventeen years old—wearing a tan knee-length tank embroidered with vines and flowers and pale green leggings that stopped at his calves. He looked like he was ready for a date.

  He had an open, friendly expression and a teasing smile, reminding me of Tonino, and since he was walking in the direction I needed to go, I joined him, carrying the basket of berries with me.

  Shaking my head, I answered his question, “No, not lost. Confused.”

  And something struck me all at once: I had no sense of the kid! None at all. His mind wasn’t there, nor were his feelings. It was a first!

  I decided to keep him talking to see if I could read him.

  “Is 'Siblin Lone Warrior Nun' a way of saying, ‘Good evening, off sphere. Enjoy the berries. I’m glad you came by?'” A ridiculous little giggle bubbled out of me.

  The kid laughed at me with an incredulous look, “What you got in that basket, off sphere? Something naughty?”

  He was adorable, and I still had no sense of him.

  Something about that made me feel relaxed inside, and I just wanted to keep talking.

  “Oh stars! I never have any idea what's going on here. It’s like one, long, awkward moment after another. Do you know how hard it is to learn idioms AND be worried that you’re gonna get kicked out for being a nosy off sphere?”

  He waved his fingers in front of him looking mischievous. “A mysterious, spooky off sphere. What’s she up to? Better look over your shoulder, the off sphere's coming!” he taunted.

  The laugh poured out of me naturally. I felt so normal being around this kid, and the question fell out of my mouth before I thought about it.

  “Does everyone know who I am or something?”

  The kid laughed outright, shaking his head at me like there was some obvious joke, but I had no idea what was going on. Was this the Shurwinn sense of humor? Confuse people, then laugh about it like it was normal?

  “Places to be off sphere. Have a good evening. Enjoy the berries!” He winked and was gone.

  The whole time we’d been talking, I’d sensed nothing from him, and I suddenly wished that he was still walking next to me with his silent thoughts and feelings. Maybe I’d run into him again soon.

  After I finished my delicious pepper veg dinner, I decided to make cashew nut berry tarts with the fresh berries I’d picked, and I added lemon zest from the garden.

  I took one up to Ritsken and asked her what "Siblin Lone Warrior Nun" meant, but she had no explanation. A stream search was no help either. “Siblin” wasn’t even in the Shurwinn dictionary.

  The next morning after my Jendo, I walked up the street to the berry lady’s house, easily finding it again without Paulo’s help. I had the day off, so I had plenty of time to return the lady's basket filled with berry tarts. I wondered if she would tell me what Siblin Lone Warrior Nun meant in exchange for sweets?

  When I got to the door, it opened before I had a chance to knock, but a little boy grabbed the basket, saying, “That’s for Nona.” Then slammed the door.

  Right in my face.

  I just shook my head and laughed to myself as I went home. My life was weird. Beware the spooky off-sphere girl for she shall read your mind and invade your life! Don’t talk to her or even open the door! Slam it in her face!

  I wasn’t getting any answers about Siblin Lone Warrior Nun from that house, so it was time for another plan.