A Hasty Move

A rush – everything is done in a rush, and she hasn’t felt this excited in a long time. She’s already packed everyone’s bags, which actually amounted to a lot more than she’d originally thought. Moving does that to a person; it forces you to take an inventory list and measure the concept of ‘home’ in objects you own. But it makes her see the appeal of a nomadic life, a minimalistic life where you take with you the bare minimum because it actually makes life easier that way.

But there’s no time to idle about thinking of all these things, so she finishes preparing their last dinner. Her husband came to her with a freshly killed lamb, and told her specifically to roast it.

She nods – it would be quicker than boiling, unless they were to eat the lamb raw, which is much too bloody. She also prepares food for their journey, and in a great hurry, prepares the bread without adding yeast. It’s an entirely new way of eating bread, but if it can make her hands fly faster, she’s all for this new method of baking.

The oven hasn’t even had time to cool when they were all whisked away into the desert sands, and ran away – no, moved – to a place where home is measured in a different kind of belonging.


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