The equestrian carved number thirteen into its front with a whittling blade and stacked it inside the cart. “Clunk clunk!” the coffer hit against the cart walls as the donkey trudged on the labyrinthine pathway.
On his way through the tamarind woodlands he met a carpenter who offered to buy it. “It’s not worth your sanga,” he said refusing his money.
“What’s its story?”
“A man had a coffer in which he kept all his valuables only for his brother to break it and steal them. Overcome with anger he broke its legs and threw it out of his house.”