Feathers

The infant howled like a wild dog. His worried mother swayed the cradle in rhythm to her humming of a lullaby. The ramshackle hut shook slightly as the cradle dragged its ropes attached to the brace of the palm roof. The mother hummed louder but in a pleasant tone. Her soprano voice flew about, against the lonely light of the sole lamp that was struggling to defeat the dimness inside the hut.

Outside the hut, darkness devoured the surroundings. The cicadas performed their routine chants. The coolness of the evening's air fondled the coconut trees enclosing the hut. The long coconut leaves rustled in tune with the lullaby. The wind blew gently into the half-opened hinged window.

The hut was built in bamboo sticks that served as walls, coconut planks set as flooring, and four huge logs anchored in the corners. The flooring was elevated, four feet off the ground. Wood fuels and a wheelbarrow were laid beneath the floor, the storing place which was fenced with barbwires.