Status: unfinished, slow due to: inferiority complex, complete and utter indecisiveness, lack of free time.
Caged Bird, Shackled Slave
Chapter Five: To Cairo
I was shaking when we finally set up camp. The moon had risen in the sky, working its mystic magic against the temperature. Coyotes and other nocturnal creatures made their presence known, crying out in the night.
The camels mewled nervously as a wind stirred the sand, looking up to the setting sun and pausing to listen. Ears up and directed toward the gust, attentive. The swirl calmed, just a false alarm, and the camels returned to their former lackadaisical selves.
"Cold? Here," one of the men said, offering a blanket as he jumped off the back of his camel. He touched its nose and it lovingly nuzzled into his palm, a calm gesture of affection. Scratching its ear as I wrapped the blanket around my frail body, he looked at me. "It's a long journey back to Cairo. What's your name, stranger?"
I stuttered slightly but managed to reply. "Zahra," I said.
"So, Zahra, what's a pretty girl like you doing wandering out in the desert alone?"
"Escaping." I whispered.
"You some kin'a slave?" His stare was intense now but then settled, as if disguising something.
"My mother was." I answered shortly.
He seemed to contemplate my answer for a moment before nodding to himself and speaking to the other man--we would be staying here for the night; get the canvas.
The camels mewled nervously as a wind stirred the sand, looking up to the setting sun and pausing to listen. Ears up and directed toward the gust, attentive. The swirl calmed, just a false alarm, and the camels returned to their former lackadaisical selves.
"Cold? Here," one of the men said, offering a blanket as he jumped off the back of his camel. He touched its nose and it lovingly nuzzled into his palm, a calm gesture of affection. Scratching its ear as I wrapped the blanket around my frail body, he looked at me. "It's a long journey back to Cairo. What's your name, stranger?"
I stuttered slightly but managed to reply. "Zahra," I said.
"So, Zahra, what's a pretty girl like you doing wandering out in the desert alone?"
"Escaping." I whispered.
"You some kin'a slave?" His stare was intense now but then settled, as if disguising something.
"My mother was." I answered shortly.
He seemed to contemplate my answer for a moment before nodding to himself and speaking to the other man--we would be staying here for the night; get the canvas.
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I am REALLY sorry for not updating for so long. I wouldn't say I "quit" Mibba, but I took a break from it for a while. Coming back really makes me want to edit the beginning chapters because I feel that my writing has improved drastically in comparison to that. I'm a high school freshman now and, compared to eighth grade's work, this is a TON better.I plan to update when I can now. (: Please continue to read, comment, and share!