Saturday, March 17, 2007

The Morning of the Yellow Sun

I opened my eyes and looked around the room.

The morning sun lit the windows and walls with a pale yellow sheen. I pulled away my sheets and swung my feet to the floor. My ankles felt stiff from the rough season of rugby that had just ended.

I looked over at my brother who slept in the bed across the room. He didn't stir.

I stood up and started towards the window when a loud knock rattled the front door of the house.

I froze.

My brother sat up with a jolt. "What was that?" he asked.

"Someone is at the door", I whispered.

I opened the bedroom door as my mother came down the hall. "Who could that be?" , she asked with a worried tone in her voice. "It is 6.00 am".

We rushed to a room that overlooked the front of the house.

Peering through the blinds we could see a military truck in the driveway with five or six uniformed soldiers taking positions around our yard with rifles aimed at our doorway.

The heavy knock was repeated and a harsh voice instructed us to open the door.

We all looked at each other in surprise.

Stumbling down the flight of stairs, we crowded into the foyer and opened the door.

That rising sun which lit our highland home had ushered in the last day of our innocence.

posted by Wild 11:54:00 PM |

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