XII. Surrendering Skies

The silent streets begun to stir.
Noises whirled through Merolas as if a gust of wind had gathered them up from inbetween the city walls and blown it over the top of the town.
Abia stood in echoes.
The world had always been an unsafe place, but suddenly danger was too real. Uncertainty too close.
Faces appeared through make-shift windows, looking up to the sky. A small crowd had gathered at the beginning of market street, muttering and mumbling concerns.
Abia spotted Mr Avedias, the man who sold stolen glossy red apples as big as her fists from carts in the city, making his way up the ladera (hillside) in the distance.
He must be headed to Eastern Peak. To see what is happening, Abia thought.
Most of Mr Avedias fortune did not lie in the sales of stolen apples. ‘He is contrabandista‘ (smuggler) Tariq had told her.
Every Thursday he would arrive with seven types of tea, freshly pressed newspapers, tobacco, and always drogas (drugs). Occasionally he had copies of the newest films. Abia did not know anybody with a TV to watch them but she liked to look at the pictures printed on the plastic cases and let her mind unravel the story inside.
Traves de la frontera invisible‘ (from across the invisible boarder).
She had listened to Mr Avedias tell stories of how he was close to being caught, so close to losing a finger, or a hand. But still he traveled into the city, still he stole and still he smuggled. Abia had concluded that he did not care much for his life. In the middle of the city’s chaos, she concluded that he was more concerned with his livelihood than any impeding danger.

She too wanted to see what was happening.
The smoke in thick shades of slate smothered the surrendering skies. A circling threat. A prophecy of what was to come.
Concern for her family bubbled inside her, anxieties clung in her mind.
A few blocks northerly they would surely be unaware of all the commotion.
The city stood to her West, The highest Peak with all it’s sight called her from the East.
Abia did not know which way to turn.

© elenaxtina.com, 2015 in Skies over A Shanty Town

2 Comments

  1. lucius_pixel

    I can’t predict how long you will be writing for, but I don’t think I need to follow too many people on WordPress. You are one of the few people that I follow that actually writes. Getting to know your writing is interesting. They are like movies.

    Like

    1. I guess I don’t know how long I will be either :-) thanks you! its a compliment to compare these to movies because that means they paint pictures :D

      Like

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