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The Trick Of Fate

The dark clouds above fled the sky in panic as the moon scattered its silver light on the entire landscape By Nhamo Muchagumisa The night grew darker as Moses stood by the edge of the disused well, trying not to think about the depth in which the child had to drown. He held the child tightly to his bosom, like one who would never let her go. The warmth emanating from the child’s body told him of the life that was about to face strangulation in the deep coldness of the well. The two-year-old child remained quiet and calm, holding on to him as if Moses was the very person to save her from the looming termination of her short life. The child’s mother was watching Moses from a short distance, seemingly blessing Moses’ intentions. He had never recovered from his paternal uncle’s death through the sword of ritualists, as the state of his corpse seemed to suggest.

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