Twenty

 

One day, in the flower market, there was great commotion. People were shouting and running here and there. She was returning after fetching a glass of water for her father and could not understand the reason behind the excitement. A terrible stench seemed to fill the air. She gasped for breath. Her uncle, she told herself, her uncle must be here!

Then, on a bed of freshly plucked jasmine flowers, she saw her parents lying. A deep cry rose in her throat at the sight of their still bodies. She could feel a strong evil presence.

The crowd parted to give her space. She could hardly understand the words that were being spoken.

‘It’s quite strange really,’ someone said, ‘I could have sworn that I saw a snake.’

‘Enormous! And so swift that it must have had at least two heads!’

‘Don’t be silly! Two heads?’

‘But where could it have come from?’

‘Flew through the air!’

‘I’ve never seen a snake this big!’

‘Something funny is going on here. Where is the snake? Where indeed are the fang marks?’

‘Did you…did you smell the stench…the awful, horrible and overpowering smell?’

‘Really?’ someone asked, sniffing the air, ‘nothing unusual!’

‘Poor girl. Does she have anyone to look after her? An uncle?’

‘They were a nice family.’

‘Death happens. We all need to move on.’

‘Another vagabond on the streets!’

Each one had a theory as to what had actually happened. But no one seemed to actually care.

She sensed it. There was that awful smell in the air—unclean and evil. She could hear the hiss.

She knelt beside her parents and took their limp hands in her own, as her tiny body wept and wept.