Hiraeth |✔

Lost

With a rough yawn, Zen stirred up from his sleep nudging Scarlett from her nap. She sat up pulling the hem of his T-shirt.

Scarlett traced the purple-pinkish spots on her legs, triggering pain all around her body. Those spots of blood lumps reminded her of the treacherous week that dived into her life.

"Time to discover a way back home, Zen?"

"Ahh. I wonder if any ships connect this island to the outer world!" After a short pause, he added, "not too many days we will get the luxury of staying on this island, this I'm sure of!"

The cries of the cattle filled the silence in the room.

"Scar, have you ever seen a live death?"

"Huh?" She blinked at him, "are you sure that's the question you intended to ask?"

"Why? I am not drunk" he heaved his eyebrows affirming it.

"Tell me if this is a live death: you see blood drained fingers move under hefty concrete blocks. As you are watching it, the fingers ultimately stop moving, the nails come in contact with the wreckage." She was huffing heavily as the cold memories took hold of her.

"Yes, certainly. Live and incredibly painful."

"My turn, mister. Ever had the pleasure of watching a live birth?" She set her eyes on a peach hand fan plunged in blue buds, lurking at the far end of the room.

He was alarmed at the question thrown at him. A question he never gave a thought about.

"No" was all he managed to say.

"You should. It is live and incredibly painful and euphoric!"

"Of course! Way better than live death."

"Nah! It is subjective and complicated!" After a break, she added, "It's gruelling hot! Pass that hand fan."

Minutes later, they heard a knock on the door. A slender man, whose rib cage peered out from his translucent skin, handed them a piece of paper.

It was an invitation to join Opeul for the lunch, written by Opeul himself. He had asked them both to follow the young man to his home.

Zen didn't like the idea of it, "Scar! What if they feed us cow's eyes?!"

"We savour it! We didn't come here to get executed on the charges against not having their food!"
He wore a face of disgust.

"I think I will go barefoot! Look at these poor people, they never wear sandals. Now, I shall too!" Zen said.

"Yes, you shall when the sun stops burning!" She knew to mock him.

"Watch me," he said as they closed the door behind.

A few long steps were enough for the boiling gravel to transfer its heat into his naked feet, making him wince with pain. "The heat is biting me!" He yelled back as he leapt back to fetch his shoes.

They reached Opeul's house. It was an ordinary hut perhaps a little bigger. Opeul, along with four others, were already seated on the floor.

"You are late!" Opeul stated with a griminess.

"Sorry! We didn't intend to." She apologized sending death stares at Zen.

They stooped down onto the heated stone floor. A wooden plate was served with conch stew, fresh-cut lamb seared for long hours and a raw fish dipped in black sauce.
'A fine meal after many days'. They devoured till the last crumb.
All together the meal was great until they sipped the drink that was served in a bamboo glass.