While the sons had built houses for themselves, the wild son refused to live in a house and when the youngest daughter crossed over, he smelled her and attacked her, and she cried for help.
Jadé hurriedly tied his shoelaces, bolted for the door, and called out, “Mummy, I’ve gone!” just as the door slammed shut behind him. He knew his mother well—
“Bro, I’m telling you, someone’s always swiping my clothes,” Malik said as he walked his friend Dede out of the apartment. “Just yesterday, I hung my boxers to dry, barely turned around, and poof, they were gone.”
She clung to him, desperate for her warmth and tears to anchor him back to life. His body, cold and lifeless, lay against hers, and she couldn't bear the thought of him slipping away
“Nwe! Nwe! Nwe!” The child's cries pierced the stillness of the night, echoing through the dense forest, a desperate wail that would tug at the heart of any passerby.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the village as women made their way home from the bustling market and farmers trudged back from their fields.
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