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| Photo Credit: Eclypsiadesign.com.br |
It starts, the thumping of the heart, the batting of the eye lashes. The sudden movement of the feet pushes the hands forward, thus blocking the rapid air intent on pulling him backward. Now, there it is – the sound of a cry. It’s distant, far away but close. Its shrill, sizzling sound causes the ears to stand akimbo. Sounds daring not to leave the lips, the esophagus shuts up.
There’s alertness in the pupils, in contemplation, he paces. His finger trying to hide from nature finds peace in between his teeth. The cry falls to a whimper, shriveling cuckoos can be heard. Then it slowly dies out: the cry. As if to replace the cry, the wind comes rushing, causing a shaking in the house. But this time, he inhales as much as he can, with hope that the constriction in his heart would stop. It eagerly does.
There’s a divide in the curtains, the incandescence of the light penetrating causes his hand to block his eyes. Slowly, it recedes. A call can be heard from the outside. He pushes the door but no one can be seen except for the vultures on the tree staring menacingly at him. Forlorn, he turns his head away. Gathering some saliva he spits it out. Vultures were a bad omen.
There was something about the air that sounded out a silent warning to all inhabitants.
He nodded. He sniffed. The message was clear, there was danger in the land. Glaring back at the ugly birds, he strode towards them. And there it lay – The still stretched out body with holes poking out from varied parts. His gaze shifts to the trees, the throat of the vultures seemed to be moving. Their eyes gleamed as his tore. They had just had a hearty meal.
Gathering strength, he looked at the disfigured face of this little girl. Haaaa! He screamed. The thunder made echoes of his voice as though mocking his despair. The rains joined, making up for his lack of tears.His neighbour’s daughter – her eyes were open but life had fled from them. Her hair stood straight. His knees buckled and he fell beside Awa, the fragile girl. The land looked desolate. Were was everybody?Had they all gone into hiding?Or where{were} they still sleeping? He crawled, allowing his palms and knees wipe the blood from the once pure earth.
The rains poured harder, relentlessly punishing him. A while, then he got to Awa’s house. With no strength left to knock, he fell resting his head on the wooden door. As in a poor bed, his weight brought it crashing to the ant infested floor. His tired eyes saw the crawly, small, black insects voraciously feasting on his flesh. His mind whirring: The events of the rather dull, painful morning shone before his very eyes. He shook away the singe but the voices buzzing around his ears made it difficult.
Alas! Unable to bear it, he screamed then stopped struggling. The sound of a cry – Now, he knew it because this time it came from him.
I hope you enjoyed this write-up. I wrote this on one of my worst days and surprisingly I won the competition hosted by severance publications.
Culled from;
By Kehinde Anita
