Dirsh

The Request

Father was indeed right. The locusts devoured the cabbage crops at our farm.

Crouching and hunched over, I watched a group of locusts biting and devouring the cabbage leaf. They were stepping on each other’s back, trying their best to eat the most of the leaf and emitting their muffled buzzing sounds. The second to my list, below my parents’ arguing, that I despise the most.

I held a rock, ready to bust the brains of these locusts all at once.

“Hey, What are you doing?!” Mother yelled for me; I immediately stood and spun. The golden sunset appeared behind her, showing her silhouette, baggy clothed petite figure with a cabbage basket perfectly balanced on her head. Her hand waved to me while the other held the basket for balance. She never failed to impress me on how her petite body was able to withhold such a stance.

I threw my basket over my shoulder and made my way to the unruly undefined rows of cabbages. Its residual leaves are everywhere.

“Is that what you’ve got?” My mother looked at my half-empty basket.

“Yes, mother. All were either a victim of the locusts or my grasp.” As Mother lead the front, we descended succeedingly on the narrow dirt stairs of our terraced cabbage farm.

“The locusts came very unusually this year. We might have to start eating them.”

I let out a loud exaggerated sigh.

“We do this every year! You should be used to it by now”

I put down my basket, meaning to catch her attention. She turned to me with puzzled eyes.

I’ll be straightforward.

“Can you and dad stop screaming loudly every day.”