“You mustn’t sleep too long.”She stepped inside with a tray balanced on her work-worn hands.The scent of cinnamon and cardamon wafted through the air.“It’s almost noon, and we have so much to do today.”
I groaned, pulling the blanket up near my face, inhaling the lingering scent of sandalwood that definitely wasn’tmine.
“Ummi, the markets are open all day,” I argued leaning to draw back the curtain.The early morning sun filtered through my room, casting amber patterns on the walls.“And there’s no way it’s near noon.”
She clicked her tongue, placing the tray of steaming tea on the mosaic bedside table.“You know me, Elira.I like to go early.If we wait too long, all the good produce will be gone.”
She settled on the edge of the bed with a huff.The wooden frame groaned beneath her weight, mirroring the quiet ache in her body.She adjusted her colourful shawl, tucking a rebellious strand of silver-streaked hair back into place.
“They’re a bunch of scavengers if you ask me,” she muttered.“Taking everything before anyone else has even had a chance.Did I tell you what happened last time?That horrible Nasimeh snatched the last of the saffron from right under my nose!”
She extended a small painted cup toward me, the fragrant scent curling into the air.I inhaled deeply before taking it, the warmth seeping into my fingers.
“You should’ve seen her smug face,” she continued, with a sour look on her own.I snorted into my tea.“Walking away withmysaffron!”
I took a small sip, letting the familiar taste linger on my tongue.“Ummi,youare the scavenger who takes everything before anyone else has had a chance.”
She gasped in mock offence, pressing a hand to her chest.The gold bangles on her wrist clinked together.Then, in one swift motion, she smacked me upside the head, just hard enough to make me sputter.
“Hey!”I coughed, laughing as I wiped stray drops of tea from my chin.“Is that any way to treat your only child?”
A playful smile tugged on her lips, deepening the lines around them.“Better me than them,” she declared, raising her chin with exaggerated dignity.“At least I taught you to dodge,mostof the time.”She rose up with a grunt and a light wheeze.
We shouldn’t even be going to the markets, as the dust wouldn’t be good for her lungs.But she never missed a market day, and I had zero fight left in me to try and stop her.
“Come on, finish your tea.We’ll leave soon.”She moved toward the door before pausing, glancing over her shoulder.Her bright green eyes—so like my own—narrowed critically.“And do something about your hair.You look like you’ve risen from the dead.”
She swung the door shut.
I chuckled under my breath.“If you only knew.”
My mother had always been my safe haven—the one person who would listen without judgement.But when it came to omens and fate, her mind was made of stone.She was deeply superstitious, believing that every misstep, every strange occurrence, carried a hidden warning.
Seers in particular were strictly forbidden.Once, I had made an offhand remark about how I wished I could speak with one, just to see if they truly held the knowledge they claimed.
She’d shut me down instantly, her face paling beneath her olive complexion.
“They are nothing but frauds,” she had said, slamming her mortar and pestle down so hard that spices jumped from the bowl.“Dealing with them will only bring misfortune.Promise me, Elira.Promise you’ll never seek them out.”
When I’d hesitated, she grabbed my wrists with a strong grip.“Promise me!”
“I promise, Ummi,” I’d said, startled by her intensity.“But why?”
She never explained, as if the very thought of entertaining such an idea was dangerous.
And yet, despite her disdain for Seers, she was a firm believer in dreams.She believed they were more than just fleeting illusions of the mind.That each carried a meaning—a purpose.
A warning.
The truly terrible ones were to never be spoken aloud, for fear that to give them a voice, was to give them power.
I didn’t believe that, but she did.
I couldn’t tell her about my nightmares.The same one, night after night.Not just something I saw, but something Ifelt.
No matter what I did or how many times I begged for reprieve, the nightmares only seemed to worsen.Each night becoming more vivid.More painful.
I didn’t know what it all meant—if it even meant anything at all—but the last thing I needed was to add another burden to my mother’s already frail shoulders.
