Red Moon Interlude

The village celebrated the New Moon; the slaves worked as usual. With sowing close, their owners would not risk palm wine or dancing. The quarters received only an extra ration of cassava. The Little Girl served as the evening’s entertainer, imitating the Prince’s pompous posture with her chest thrust forward and the manliest stride she could manage.

“Slave! Now, to my room…” She waited for laughter to ensue but instead she was greeted with silence.

“Are you deaf?” she pointed at her right ear, “I said, to my room, now!” the silence only intensified. It was at this moment she knew something was wrong. From the frozen looks on their faces she didn’t have to turn around to realize someone was standing behind her, someone that would not have found any of this funny at all. Someone in the presence of whom the slaves were too afraid to be caught laughing. There was only one person it could be. Her heart sank in fear.

“So you are the funny one?”