The Morning Of
“Wake Up!” I heard, along with a light shove. I looked up, my eyes still hazy from sleep. It was my mom, standing there, towering over me as I push the sheets off my chest. I crawled out of my bed, slowly. I sauntered through the room over to our table. I sat down slowly, in a straw-woven chair. I put my head down on the rough wood. I picked up my food slowly, as it was cold to the touch.
“Do I cut tree today?” I asked my mom, who was inspecting the house.
“Yes, but be careful and bring all the wood back so we can make fire,” She said. Me, still half asleep, sat up and walked over to one of the tables. I coasted my fingers along the coarse, hard wood it had been constructed out of. I grabbed my small hatchet off the table, gripping the handle with all my strength. I got this small axe for my 13th birthday, which was about 9 months ago. I walked to the door of our house, feeling more awake. I pushed open the straw door, noticing it had come a little loose. I walked out, almost tasting the warm humidity. The sun was just rising, which felt like it was blinding me. My village was already alive with people and culture. I walked to the left of my house, towards the beach. It was a short walk, and I arrived in little time at all. The water, being its turquoise clear self was reflecting the light from the sun. I scouted the beach for palm wood, and there was some aways south. I walked down the beach, and felt the warm sand sift between my toes. I walked, one foot in water, one foot in sand. The water, had a cool feeling. Small waves crashed into my foot with no strength what so ever. I ended putting both feet within foot deep water.I had finally reached a small patch of palm trees. I swung the hatchet, with sheer force. The tree took a small blow, launching tiny wood shards almost everywhere. I put my hand along the small, 2 inch deep groove. “Ahh!” I said to myself, in surprise. There was a small piece of wood coming out of my hand. It was a splinter. I took many, many more swings, which finally overtook the small palm, which hit the sand with a thump! I went to inspect the leaves. They had a beautiful pattern, and they had many shades of green. I picked it up, and made a small pile. *** Hours later, I had many trees, ready to be hauled back to my house. It took awhile, but I managed. We started a fire, and cooked in a metal pot which hung over. The fire crackled, with its abundant orange and red flames flashing out from its center. My little brother, Bongani, was running close to the fire. “Back away Bongani!” I said, slightly scaring him. Later that night, I went to bed. I pulled the thick covers over me. They we’re made of thick wool, recently harvested from our villages sheep.
