January Contest

She fed us her blood.

I found mama bent over a tray of beans, picking out the shafts in the silence of the night. As I sat to join her, she gave me a limp smile.

“Nne set the fire, let me get water” She disappeared into the storeroom and emerged with a gallon. In a heartbeat I made the fire and when its light met mama’s face, it told the tale of a woman with thirteen children. She emptied the water into the beans.

“Mama!”

“O gini!?”

“Kerosene!…It’s not water, it’s kerosene”

A tear ran down her face and made for the floor.

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