Mirrors’s reflections #1 – Chapter 1: Yellow Horizons

Strong rays beamed through the cracks and cleavages of the mud wall. Others fell in from the aperture created by the lopsided thatch roof. But it was the one falling in direct on Sofia’s snoring face, through the mismatched window frame that awoke her.

She rubbed at her eyes, squinting to wad off the ray glint. It took a while before she managed to steady her eyelids, simultaneously yawning as she hurled aside the blanket. The first thing she did was out stretch her leg to push wide open the window, allowing in the full shine of the overhead sun.

Such a bright morning! She spread out her arms, relishing the heat seeping into her warming veins. Sofia might have found cheer in this bright morning, if it wasn’t that her worries and anxieties immediately took over. She had in the previous days just about combed all potential openings, but still a job was not in sight.

And at 25, three years since graduating, time was not on her side. She needed a job to support herself, and yet here she was still waking up in papa’s house.

Speaking of papa, where was he, she wondered, pulling in her nose several times to snoop the air. Weird, she thought. There was not the crisp of cigarette smoke that she had to contend with every morning. This was turning out to be a really strange morning.

Sofia quickly reached for the nearest skirt, waggling her rear to slot into the tight stretch of the cotton. She had pulled over the sweater half way before changing her mind and hurling it back on the heap inside the reed basket. There was no need for that on such a sunny day.

She quickly made for outside, but paused at the threshold when she papa beneath the cassia. He was sited with his back toward her. She remained watching him for a while. Hunched on the wood stump, and staring direct at the eastern horizon, she was not surprised. This had become a kind of his daily pastime.

The absence, however of cigarette smoke at once caught her attention. This was unlike her old man. She was expecting to see a smoke billow dancing off his lips. It did every morning.

Maybe the cigarette was just yet unlit, but it had to be dangling on his lips, she was convinced. She angled her head sideways for a better view, when he stunned her.

Reluctantly pointing at the sun rising off the yellow tinted eastern horizon, he spoke, with unusual calmness.

“I need to appreciate such wonders while I still can!”