Restaurants
I let out a resigned huff when the young woman once more drags me away. If I were not so leery of making a scene here….
My irritation fades away, however, as we arrive at yet another building nearby, from which seeps out smells of food – alien, but definitely food. Hunger makes itself known again, accompanied by thirst and exhaustion. I do not know how I will pay for the food, or pay the young woman for the food, but I want the food, badly.
She tows me inside, past a pair of doors paned with clear glass – or is it crystal? – and framed with some kind of silvery metal. I keep swallowing back my saliva as we weave between small and big tables seating so many Midgardians.
And then we seat ourselves opposite each other at a rectangular table for two, and I am faced with a large, thin book filled with colourful pictures of food and words beneath each.
It takes my utmost will not to let my jaw slacken.
`How prevalent are books here? Can all Midgardians read? Or are the pictures there for those who cannot read? What am I supposed to do with this book?`