The path between the village and baobab tree follows the contour of land and nothing shades it. The drought has claimed every leaf and every animal.
Mbuya rises from her sleeping mat as night shrugs an opening for daybreak. She rewraps her cloth and makes no sound as she moves toward the path to the baobab tree. The day is breathless at its birth. Rocks exude yesterday’s heat. She thinks only of the honey held high in the tree and its surprise on the tongues of the hungry children in her care as they wait out the drought.
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Cynthia Helen Beecher experienced droughts and downpours while living and working in the African bush for 9 years. Her prose piece “A Backseat to Hell and Squalor: South Africa, 1992” won Memior (and) Second Prize. Her work can also be found in Los Angeles Review and SmokeLong Quarterly.