January Contest

JITIMAI (Melancholy)

By January 29, 2019 No Comments

She ambles around the casket.
It’s been more than ten minutes. People are getting impatient. But she can’t seem to walk away. They whisper among themselves.
“Let her have her time.”
“No, we are getting late, the corpse should be buried by now.”
“The gods are not pleased by this delay.”
She can hear them, but she is not walking away until she can wake up to the sight of head wraps and turbans. The scent of coconut oil.
The taste of honey and sunflowers .
She is not leaving until the gods awaken a daughter of the motherland. Her mother.

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