Author: Lynda Wawira Miss Pepper

Bahati slowly pushed the front door open, afraid to make a sound. She peeked outside heaving a sigh of relief that no one was outside. The watchman was sleeping in his shed. Checking one last time to be sure, she carried the bucket of washed clothes and headed towards the hanging lines. She loved this time of day. The sky looked confused: partly dark and partly lit. The sun peeking at the horizon like a shy lover afraid to come out. From the hanging lines, she could see all the houses. No lights were on yet. The alarm clocks were…

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