I found myself in the
bathroom yet again (seems to be a recurring theme, doesn’t it?), this time to
take a bucket bath (something that should be recurring). The front door of my
house was wide open, as it always is. In this community, it would be unfathomably
rude to close the door while I was in the house, unless it’s bedtime.
Anyway, I had already sudsed
up when I perceived – I wasn’t sure if I had actually seen it – a dark form
move past a gaping hole in the door. My heart jumped. Do I calmly finish my
bath, or put my towel on and investigate – and risk confronting a burglar in
just my towel? Captain Underpants would have known what to do, but crime scenes
in Mozambique are not his priority.
Snippets of my neighbors’
conversation floated into my bucketbathroom.
“murmur murmur went into the
house!”
“mumble murmur tee hee”
“she’s taking a bath murmur”
“WHAT?” I yelled from my
non-vantage point.
“A chicken just walked into
your house!”
I saw a colorful form briefly
flash through all the holes in my door, not just the ones low to the ground
like the first shadow. I heard a small scuffle and then a loud, protesting
squawking. The colors went by my door again, in the other direction, and the
squawking diminished in volume.
I rinsed off my suds layer in
peace.
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