Today’s prompt is this powerful image –
His eyes opened to the majestic blue sky. A clear sky would be delightful to many, but not to him. It meant his woes would not come to an end today.
Shaking his melancholy aside, he got up from the charpoy and went to the nearby jungle to complete his morning ablutions. If it didn’t rain by the end of this week, he would have nothing to give back to his creditors who hounded him mercilessly.
He went to the hut. His wife, who all of 25-years but looked like 50 with years of poverty and hard work, looked at him with hope. He shook his head. His two kids were still sleeping, their faces gaunt and their skin thin due to hunger.
She handed him some food. He had neither gone to the market, nor had given her money to buy food. He knew what she had served her. Any rodent or tabby she could get her hands on in the field became their meals these days.
Before going to sleep that night, he put his hands together. Calloused hands with dirt beneath the fingers joined together in a prayer. He prayed to the Rain God to send some over to his field. And slept.
In the night, he woke up to unusual sounds. What was it? He felt hot, burning hot. Within seconds he was up. A fierce inhuman cry came out of his mouth as he ran towards his field. Or what was left of it.
The Gods don’t answer all prayers.
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