Do Not Fall Asleep
ng like silent sentinels against the grey dawn sky. In one of the countless huts, a lone figure stirred restlessl
d her eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep and yawning as she stretched her smooth and shiny
d insisted against the wish of her father to marry Ochu, the hunter who lived alone beneath the sacred hills of the village; a portion of the village is belie
e village and beyond the river to the communities scattered on the plains of the forest. One could tell from the way they usually held hands and played whenever they were outside that th
pe that was only seen around the palaces. Her slender structure complemented her calm pose and commanded love from all who beheld her. She was the delight of every young man and ha
was regarded as an outcast; he was never allowed to attend any men's gathering and was never allowed to live within the community. In the entire Oo
ho enjoyed the serenity of the forest as well as the sounds of the trees singing and dancing to the rhythm of the wind. He enjoyed hunting at night and working on his farm during the day. He never mis
or not growing a beard, no man in the entire kingdom was ever going to be as promising as him in terms of the size of his harvest. He stayed true to this,
ighbouring kingdom of Asa, the crowned prince had come to seek Amah's hand in marriage. This was a differe
e entire kingdom with strong magical powers-too powerful, it would not allow any invasion on any part of the kingdom. Legends have it that one time, the king of a particular kingdom was trapped o
eople. Sometimes he marries the queens and at other times, he kills them with their ki
a day when the relationship between the two kingdoms will be established-forged in marriage and built on love. It would be a great
yed eating them as much as he enjoyed hunting them. The trap was made of a string made of the bark of the ika tree, a fibrous tree found deep in the rainforest of the kingdoms beyond the rivers. The string is tied
and his veinous hands. His hefty body was shiny in the dark, as though he had applied a gallon of oil t
ust be
into the dark sky as though li
time. The last time he felt this was
e rhythmic chirping of distant crickets. The dense canopy overhead cast shifting shadows, dappli
ith the faint aroma of decay. It hung heavy around him, suffusing the f
the usual nocturnal symphony of sounds-the croaking of frogs, the rustle of nocturnal creatures-adde
very rustle of leaves and every creak of a branch seemed magnified in the oppr
way back through the shadowy depths of the forest. Each step seemed to echo i
ined cloaked in its unnatural calm, the secrets hidd
the fingers of giants. Their thick trunks rose from the forest floor, and their bark was weathered and worn by centuries of w
ght and shadow on the forest floor below. The ground was carpeted with a thick layer of fal
h and decaying foliage. It hung heavy around him, suffusing the forest wi
trees parting to reveal a tranquil lake nestled amidst the verdant foliage. The wa
el dropped and exposed the rocky shoreline below. But now, in the midst of the rainy se
ce of solace and serenity amidst the chaos of the outside world. And as he gazed out across its tranquil waters, he felt
e shore fading into the distance behind him. But as he disappeared into the darkness of the forest once m
oming tall and dense on either side. The air grew thick with tension, the usual tranquility of the night
strained to locate the source of the sound. It echoed through the stillne
the dense foliage in the direction of the cry. Branches snagged at his bare and hairy body,
ing off the trees like a ghostly lament. He stumbled over roots and fallen branch
suddenly,
ow of the moonlight filtering through the trees. She was small and fragile-look
heart pounding in his chest as he kneeled besid
ked, his voice soft and
eration. Tears streaked her cheeks, glinting in the moonligh
ispered, her voice tr
another word, he gathered the woman into his arms and held her close, o