The glints in the distance move in contrast to the cows grazing languidly nearby. Over time, fear and curiosity settle into acceptance. Occasional, flashes on an uneventful plain.
My attention is brought back to the game as the sun’s emergence from the clouds reflects on the rocks I play with.
Others play this game with seeds but these shimmering rocks are much prettier. If the river’s water was clear, it would glisten from the rocks below.
Another quiet day nears it’s end and I slowly round the cattle to go home. One day, the cattle I watch will be mine. For now, I am content.
Oddly, the glints have changed direction and are coming to me and fear returns. Outsiders have not been kind to my people. With nowhere to run, I wait for death.
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The glints turn into roaring beasts. I will not beg, afterall, death is unavoidable. I never imagined mine would come so soon.
The beasts stop and men emerge, smiling. It is not comforting. Smiles can be cruel in this land. Panic rises as one shakes a sack. I have never heard of a form of torture that starts like this.
The others are still smiling. Hopefully, dying will be quick. He opens the sack and beckons me closer. I will not walk willing to whatever torture device he has. Let them come.
He reaches inside and pulls out….rocks. The same ones I play with. These strangers like them too? I show him mine and they are surprised. Perhaps it’s because I’m a girl. We’re not supposed to play the games that men play.
They repeat a word that I don’t understand as I point to the river. Apparently, in their language, these are called diamonds.
