I buried the baby here.
(This story prompt was inspired from the image below)
I buried my child here.
In Papa’s farm. I am sure it was here; but I can’t find it. It’s too dark. It was light some moments ago, though. I can feel the dry wind on my skin, the tendrils of my hair flowing in its wake. I shouldn’t have listened to Aunty Risi.
It was not his fault that Wale did this. Aunty Risi told me I got my beauty from Esu: The devil. She said I was a seed of the goddess. Such beauty, she exclaimed, could only be a gift from the gods.
My breasts are still heavy and pointed but the baby is not here to suck them. I must keep searching. I’m sure he’s still buried here somewhere.
It is dark. Still very dark. The wind has gone home and I am left all alone. I must find the baby. I must.
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