Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A Short Short Story

Old Mama Kamau’s dead decaying body was found at 6.00am by Little Turban Boy, the caretaker’s son. The neighbours had been complaining for four days of the foul stench that was seeping out of her green metal door and finally Betty sent Little Turban Boy to break the door down.

I had just come in that hour from my nightly ‘walk’. I stood in front of my door, watching the crowd growing with spectators. Death was such a fascinating new thing to humans. I was amused to see them try to peer at her window, to hear the wailing of women, the hushed voices of the men. There was a murmuring, one of them turned to notice to see my presence at the door and then they all turned slowly to look at me. stone steel eyes in all of them filled with fear, ‘what helpless little sheep they are’ i snickered to myself.

I yawned and closed the door to sleep - my stomach full with human blood.

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