By Mr. Nick
After many years of traveling I’ve finally found somewhere to truly belong. The tribe I’ve chosen to live with are warm and caring, always looking out for each other. Their life is simple and kind, living off the land with little thought for money or status. The only thing I can’t get my head around is how, every so often, one of them will lie down, close their eyes and refuse to talk. They’re called the silent ones. If the silent ones persist in refusing to talk then they’re covered in soil and songs are sung. How weird is that?