She wanted to eat something warm, something she couldn't cook in her small travel kit right now.
And as they wandered further, to the opposite end of the market from where they had first arrived, she found it — a food market.
The air there was rich with smells — spices, grilled meat, sweet dough, and roasted corn.
Right at the entrance stood a man, his sleeves rolled up, turning corn over a bed of glowing coal. The crackling sound of fire mixed with the gentle hiss of roasting kernels. A faint scent of salt and smoke brushed past Kaya's nose.
A small smile tugged at Kaya's lips. She looked away for a moment before slowly walking toward the stall.
The scent of roasted corn was warm and smoky, with that faint sweetness that reminded her of late summers. Standing in front of the small cart, Kaya pointed toward the golden cobs. "Sweet corn?" she asked.
