For the first time since he could remember, Dael woke with the rising of the sun to head into the fields to till the ground, tend to the goats and hens, to repair the fence and the roof where some of the thatching was thinning. Ma worked in the house, and Dael could hear her faint songs over the rhythm of the plow and hoe. Da would be proud of the rows Dael made, neat and deep and straight.
Dael watched the southern horizon, same as Ma and the others in the village, waiting to hear word from the cliffs.
No comments:
Post a Comment