DEFINING MY COUNTRY IN PRESENT TENSE || Fiction || Sandra Uche Delumozie
DEFINING MY COUNTRY IN PRESENT TENSE Aku felt the dawn had broken too soon when church bells signalling a nearby Catholic Mass chimed. She checked the time on her mobile phone, stretched, and yawned before falling back asleep. Suddenly, a piercing cry echoing like a gust of wind swept the sleep from her eyes. As she rolled over in bed, the phrase “there is no peace for the wicked” occurred to her—fitting her current state. She curled up under the duvet, racking her brain for the source of the unusual noise. When the sobbing persisted, she hissed in frustration and tossed aside her duvet. The morning breeze scattered debris against the windows, creating a whistling sound that matched the rhythm of the sobs. Aku slipped on her fancy slippers and, without hesitation, crept closer to the direction of the noise. The hallway was dark and narrow, the walls closing in around her as she stumbled along. But she kept moving, her curiosity overpowering the urge to go back for a torch. The sounds l...
