Photo credit: cgelth
Eager for change, the peasants cheered the rebel who deposed the jaen. Turned oppressor, he tore down the jaen’s manor, razed the temples, crushed the statues. Tired, hungry, dejected, the people limped on.
Each night, Tamalae collected broken glass and tiles from rubbish piles and filthy streams.
Her father chastised her. “Spend your strength in the fields. We cannot afford your sentimentality.”
When Tamalae finished, her mosaic roof shone in every color, sparkling in a world of gray. Passersby paused in their drudgery, smiled, walked more lightly.
“See, father? We need food to survive. But we need hope to live.”
Word count: 100. Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers challenge. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting, and to Sandra Cook for providing the original photo prompt, below. Click here to see the other stories.
Photo © Sandra Cook