The Stream

Solomon was a simple man in a small village. He married Sarah and they lived in a small house with all they needed to lead modest lives. They never had too much, neither did they have too little.

Sarah was a beautiful woman, she had small breasts that looked like bananas cut in halves and big firm buttocks. She was neither fat nor thin, but large enough to fill Solomon's arms at night.

Solomon was a quiet man with lofty dreams, he wasn't a man of many words and he disliked excessive idle chatter. He was brilliant and handsome, but many disliked his simplicity and mistook him as naive.

As the years went by, Solomon became wanting. He grew tired of Sarah's idle chatter, he grew tired of her ways. He became indignant. 

One day, Solomon went to the farm a some miles away, and on his way back he met Cynthia. She had a look, a way with words that soothed him. On their walk back to the village he begged to see her again and she reluctantly obliged. He was intrigued by her words and her beauty.

Solomon got home and was happy, Sarah could notice this from his wry smile. As the days went by, he became more wanting. He looked forward to his encounter with Cynthia, he could not bear the wait. On that morning, he went to the farm and met Cynthia along the way. They talked for hours and took a bath in the stream close to the farm. 

The water was cold and she clung to him, he felt her firm breasts pressed against his chest and he began to feel a longing. Every week, Solomon looked forward to bathing in the stream, it was a place to unburden and be at peace.

The days went by, the weeks and the months. Life was not perfect but Solomon was pleased. Sarah was dutiful during this time, she would cook and clean as best she could, hoping he would be pleased - she too was wanting.

There was always something unpleasant Sarah and Solomon both shared. This common burden did not go away and lingered on the tips of their tongues and clung to their skin like a contagious sore. It seemed that with each day this burden grew and festered. 

Sarah was sad like most women would, but she continued to seek answers to questions unknown. She waited for that former gaze, that warmth and silence that was custom to love. Cynthia knew of Sarah, she had seen her once in the market and heard tales of her beauty from Solomon. She had grown fond of what she knew was not hers even if for a moment. But this moment continued to linger and the stream grew wary of their presence.

One day, Cynthia came home with a small basket full of fruits. Her mom was not pleased. Cynthia had lived a hard life, she had no one to care for her the way Solomon did - she was pleased with him. Like Cynthia, Mama Cynthia had led a hard life but she also wished the same for her daughter. So she watched Cynthia, seeking the source of this glee.

She crawled, she crept, she swam and she flew; until she found the stream. Mama Cynthia decided to foil this frequent encounter, she was determined to end her daughter's false happiness; it was unbecoming of her. One day, she placed a big stone on the path along Solomon's way at night. 

Solomon was euphoric and lost in childish thoughts on his way from the farm one day when he kicked a stone. He bled all the way home. Sarah nursed his wound and gave him food, he slept in her bosom till the morning.

Unknown to Solomon and Cynthia, Mama Cynthia came back at night and wiped the blood from the stone. She took the bloodied cloth to her little shrine hidden in the mountains. There she danced, she sang, she spoke to the bloodied cloth.

As days past, pests began to eat the plants on Solomon's farm. It began slowly and spread across the four corners of the farm. Unhappy, Solomon sought solace in the untainted stream. He spent even more time there with Cynthia than on the farm. After a while there was almost no more food for Solomon and Sarah, and they became distressed. Depressed, Solomon cried himself to sleep one night with a different kind of longing. 

Next, the stream began to dry up and as the water receded so did Solomon's joy. One day, on his way from the farm he met a madman at the spot he kicked the stone, and the mad man said, "give me some food and I will tell you a secret". Solomon was amused but he decided to give the madman an apple more out of kindness than curiosity. Solomon got home upset. Sad, he saw Sarah walking towards the house and he felt a longing. He remembered her breasts, her thighs and her buttocks. He felt ashamed.

Slowly Solomon and Cynthia began to drift away until the stream was completely dry. The words of the madman lingered in Solomon's ears, "leave the damsel, she belongs to her mother". These words did not please Solomon, he remembered Cynthia's soothing words. Only she could decipher his mood from his eyes, he could speak to her without words. Solomon was in conflict within and without. The stream was gone and the farm was almost gone but Sarah was still there. 

Home is where Solomon went, for a long time he had no home. He could see the glee in Sarah's eyes as news of the dried stream spread. She wiggled her hips as she walked past, she too spoke with her eyes without words. 

It began to rain as Solomon and Sarah looked out the stained windowpane. The waters drenched the farm and in a few days, the flowers would blossom again. After the rain, the stream was overflowing once again, but this time a strange fellow waited for a damsel as the witch doctor ogled through the bushes with a piece of bloodied cloth in her hand. "She's mine," she whispered as the birds circled above the stream.