First untitled prose

Akinyi had no idea where she was going. She kept running and running, faster, faster. Her left hand steadily working as a shield against the dew laden spider webs in her path, the sound of a distant tula could be heard in deep eerie tones.  Oooo! Oooo! Oooo!

Akinyi felt no fear. Sweat steadily streamed down her back in strips. Her dress, soaked in sweat, now draped limply, tilted on one side revealing her rich, jet black, supple shoulder. The ground seemed less dusty than usual, the ground firm under her feet. Pat! pat! papat! Papat! Papat! Papat! Papat! Papat! Faster and faster she ran.  Homestead after homestead, she whisked by, her right hand hiking up her ankle length dress as she ran.

Rage was her fuel, the more she thought, the angrier she felt. Her heart raced and felt like it was going to rip out of her chest. She did not even notice the fireflies that seemed to guide her path. The night was as dark as the bottom of her mother’s sufurias.


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