THE MORNING was chilly with mist hugging the ground and the coffee trees surrounding the village.
Inside the houses, the cold penetrated the blind walls and dug deep into blankets and bones.
Yasiiname, shivering on the pitpit bed, pulled the old gaman blanket over herself once again. She curled her legs in an effort to cosset herself within its feeble warmth.
She had done this so many times. Most mornings she had to throw back the blanket, emerge from the warmth of the bed and meet the cold morning to go to school. Today, was different.
Her last day of school, at least this school, had been yesterday. The compulsion to throw back the blanket was gone. She pulled it over herself again, making sure no drafts crept in from between the pitpit blinds. She wanted to wait for the cold to disappear before crawling out to face the day.