''Your little girl just became a woman.''
The afternoon was peaceful and still as always
in the desert heat. She sat at the dining table
mending her best cloak. Father had just come
in from his farm work and was lying on the old
cushions they used to sit on in the main room of the small two bedroom cottage. He watched
her fondly, as she squinted at her needlework.
She was a good child, he always thought of
her as that, even though she was far from a
child now at the age of 19. Yet she still had her
innocent eyes. her smooth golden skin and her petite frame, which made her look much
younger than she was. She was shy and quiet.
''Like her mother,'' he thought, modest, timid,
yet dignified in her way.
Father had eaten an early lunch and was
taking a respite from the heat outside. She thought she heard the sound of voices
approaching and wondered if it was the
neighbour with some news, hopefully not bad like the last time.
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