The Interval

"And then it seemed to me that gradually
The sun grew dark, stars started to appear,
All weeping dismally.
And I saw birds in flight fall from the air,
And felt the whole world shake."
                                     New Life, Dante Alighieri

Dunya woke to an unnerving silence. She couldn't place the exact reason for her waking while her gaze sought a familiar object in the dark. Dunya wasn't scared as long as she was surrounded by the mosquito net, the magical gossamer shielding her from bugs and other unsavoury creatures that might take shape in the swirling black beyond the edges of the bed.

Then, she heard the birds, like the laughter of strangers echoing down sinuous alleyways or the faint tooting of a train, invisible to the eye but unmistakable to the ear. A cacophony soon descended upon the house. The birds were scratching their claws against the tin roof and squawking with urgency. It was as if they were brushing their wings just above her protective net. The girl instinctively grabbed for her mother's hand. Her hand fell on cold sheets.