As seconds dug their nails into minutes, the wind befriended the clouds as they spread their wings, indicating a storm. Women made their approach up the mountain carrying pots of water on their heads, suggesting that they were on their way home from the springs. No one acknowledged Zmarak's presence as he carried his white sack full of stale bread collected from the adjacent village. His tangled dirty blonde hair looked like it had endured a sandstorm of its own and his clothes had tears which had been sewn multiple times.They were two sizes larger and did not complement his thin frame making it apparent that he was a beggar's son.
Zmarak's mother would trust him to take refuge during the storm and ensure that his bag was stuffed with bread before he came home. His mother would then take the fresher ones out for them to eat and the stale ones would be put out in the sun to dry. After drying them they would be roasted and beaten with salt rock solely by his mother through hand labour. These bread crumbs would then be sold by his mom so they could afford three meals a day. As the wind picked up pace, Zmarak spotted people in mud houses at the bottom of the mountain collecting their laundry and others shooing chickens into their dens. Shepherds assembled their sheep under a stable. Women carried timber inside their homes to protect it from the rain to keep them usable to cook with while the storm lasted.
Zmarak sauntered down the mountain carelessly jumping from one foot to another on each mountain step. His last trip would be down in the mud houses and maybe the rich ones down there might even offer him something extra. As he made his way down through the mountain steps, designed for one way traffic, a kid his age was walking his younger brother up when the little one yelled, "He's filthy and disgusting, I don't wanna pass by him."
The kids older brother gave him an irritated look and said, "Didn't mama tell you that you don't say that about the poor. If they wish bad luck upon you, it'll come true." He then proceeded to give Zmarak a pitiful glance.
Zmaraks eyes threatened to tear up, angered by the cage of inferiority he was born into, but instead he pretended to spit to his right side. They passed by each other but the little boy refused to pass by Zmarak without pinching his nose closed. He had his finger wrapped tight around his nose and gave Zmarak a cold glare.
"Hope you break your legs, kid!" Zmarak yelled as soon has they reached the top of the mountain steps. His older brothers expression flashed from anger to worry. 'How could the little kids older brother be so unwise yet be the same age as me?' He thought. How could everything he say come true? Zmarak was no saint.
A fierce wind blew over him, billowing his clothes. He continued his descent down the mountain at a rapid pace in hopes that someone would let him sit on their kitchen floor while the storm lasted. Several farmers brushed by him without glancing his way. He made his way towards the primary house in the village.
It was apparent that something special was happening at the house. People were going in and out with both hands filled with food. Maybe someone was getting married, perhaps someone had died. Or maybe it was someone's death anniversary.
Regardless, Zmarak made his way into the house. No one cared to acknowledge him and carried on with their conversations. He spotted another beggar. The beggar placed his sack, similar to Zmarak's, on the far corner of the house. He looked far older than Zmarak. It looked like the house owner was having a conversation with him. He determined that she wanted the beggar to deliver rice to the entire village. She would obviously reward the beggar with something significant later and that infuriated Zmarak. He was envious. The events with the little kid came to him and he was furious as to why he had to be the worst of beggars too.
He positioned his own nearly-full sack behind a chair that was there. When he scanned his surroundings and was sure no one was watching him he made his way towards the other beggar's sack. He would try and grab the sack and people would believe it was his because after all he had the pleasure of being a beggar. He didn't even have to pretend to be one.
Just when he lifted the sack half way, the beggar turned around and spotted him.
"My sack!" He yelled and ran down to chase him. The whole crowd turned around to look at Zmarak. He dropped the sack and didn't waste a second. He made a fierce run in the direction of the exit. The sky outside had teared open, the clouds cried out generously and the land opened its door for its tears.
Zmarak was sodden when he arrived in a landfill. It only came to his realization then that he had forgot about his own sack. A tear rolled down his eye. He sat in the landfill as dark clouds collided and rained grief upon him. He had no courage or dignity to go back and get his sack back. In the greed of wanting more he had lost what he already had.
Zmarak couldn't let down his mother. She depended upon him,so he decided to go to the nearest residence and find anything he could take back to his mother.
"Donate your alms. May God pardon you!" Zmarak stated loudly in a cracked voice as he entered the house. Luckily the rain had blended his tears.
No good fortune. The residence's owner was an older women who said her daughter-in-law had given their leftover bread to a previous beggar.
Zmarak was about to shy away when the lady called him back.
"There was a death anniversary down the street and so they've sent some rice but due to my ailing health the herbalist has forbidden me from eating rice this oily. My daughter-in-law refuses to eat anything from the lifeless house and I don't wanna throw it out." She stated. " You look like you haven't eaten in awhile, come and eat this if you want" She offered him a plate that was full of rice to the top with carrots, raisins and almonds. How could he resist? His stomach grumbled and he got seated on the floor without delay to devour it.
"Just pray for my health and hope you don't curse me for not having bread for you. God listens to you people." She admonished.
Zmarak just nodded.
