I winced, rubbing the spot where her hand had connected.“Ow, Ummi.You can’t just go around hitting people.”
She stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips and a single brow raised.The corner of her mouth twitched.“I just did.”
She adjusted her own tunic, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from the fabric.
I straightened my shoulders.“You know, one day I’m going to start hitting back.”
Her eyes widened comically, one hand flying to her chest before her laugh broke free.Her frail frame shook with mirth, and the lines around her eyes deepened as she reached out, linking our arms together.
“And on that day, I shall bow before your mighty courage,” she teased, tugging me along.“Until then, mind your tongue in the village.The elders have ears like foxes.”
I rolled my eyes but squeezed her arm affectionately.
Together we began our walk toward the market.The scent of baking bread wafted from nearby houses, where women called out to each other across narrow alleyways—their voices carrying in the clear morning air.
The village unfolded before us, sun-washed and humming with life as we rounded the final corner.Buildings of earthen clay stood pressed together, their walls the colour of honey and sand.Elaborate tiles in sapphire blue and emerald green lined the edges of small fountains where children splashed, sending water droplets glittering in the air.Their laughter mingled with the animated calls of shopkeepers setting up their wares.
The pathways were already teeming with people, bodies weaving through the stalls in a frenzied search for the best goods before they vanished.Women balanced baskets on their heads, while men dragged stubborn donkeys laden with wares.
The markets only opened once a month, when traders arrived from distant cities and villages.If you failed to get what you needed, you were stuck scraping by until the next one.
“I told you so,” mother sang, a smug smile spreading across her face as she gestured to the crowd with a flourish of her hand.
I sighed, nudging her shoulder with mine.“Yes, yes.”I swept my braid over my shoulder.“The sun rises, the wind blows, and Ummi isneverwrong.”
She hummed in satisfaction, reaching up to pat my cheek.“Remember that and you’ll live a long and happy life.”
She pointed toward a stall piled high with pyramids of spices in rich reds, yellows, and browns.“Let us see what is left for foods, and once we’re done, we can look around.”
The market was a whirlwind of colour and movement.Canopies of vibrant fabric stretched overhead, casting patterned shadow onto the narrow, winding paths.The rich scent of herbs mingled with crisp citrus and the sizzle of meat on small, charcoal grills filled my nostrils.Merchants fanned the smoke toward potential customers, the aroma more effective than any shouted bargain.
A group of children raced past, nearly knocking me sideways as their small bodies darted between the forest of adult legs.Their shrieks of delight loud as their mother—a woman with a face lined by sun and worry—pushed through the crowd behind them, panting as she shouted empty threats.
“No dinner if you don’t come back right now!”
The children laughed even harder, dodging her outstretched hands.
I steadied myself as they ran circles around me.Their joy was infectious, spreading through the crowded space like ripples in a pond.
Their mother, stopped beside me and offered a breathless apology.I waved her off with a chuckle.
“Ahh, a smile that lights up the sky.”
I rolled my eyes and spun on my heel, the dirt crunching beneath my sandals.
“Actually, I believe it’s the sun that lights up the sky.”I gestured upward with an exaggerated sweep of my arm.“You see that big, bright thing?They say if you stare at it for too long, you’ll go blind.”I leaned forward, poking a finger into his shoulder.“Youshould try it, just to see if it’s true.”
Theo stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, the sleeves of his loose, white cotton shirt rolled up to expose forearms tanned dark by weeks on the road.His teeth flashed brightly against his skin as his grin widened.
“But if I go blind,” he said, stepping close enough that cedarwood filled the space between us, “I won’t be able to see thatgorgeoussmile I love so much.”He dropped his voice to a low whisper, bending so his lips nearly brushed my ear.“And you know just how much it turns me on.”
He straightened, wiggling his brows suggestively, amber eyes dancing with mischief.
My hand shot out, grabbing the first thing my fingers touched from a nearby stall.An apple.
Perfect.
I hurled the fruit with all the force I could muster.
