As Zix appoached the town the sounds of the market came out, louder and louder. People were buzzing around. The market place had shops around it as well. People were shopping, bartering and chatting. Zix made for a small spot next to one of the entrance ways. A small stall with fruit and berries was next to him. He nodded at the merchant girl as he made for the spot. He put his pack and the wheelbarrow down and waited for people to come. Most times the firewood would sell out relatively fast. His father would probably join him with the second load of firewood after he was done with the garden. Afterwards his dad would trade some more and then they would go home back to the silence and the work. 

Zix liked the work and the town well enough. Life was easy and life was quiet. Only sometimes he wished there would happen something, anything really. In his dreams he was the hero. He did things, went places. But as soon as Zix started drifting off back to the fantasyland the folks on the market woke him straight back up and he started selling the firewood. If only something woke him up from his actual life, he thought as the day began.