The Four Owls

Payday! For working people, that is the Day. A month of sweat rewarded by a day of sweet. It is the encapsulation of an age old means of livelihood; creditors line up, bills are squared, food is bought, clothes are purchased, rents are paid, savings are made, and, for the lucky few, wealth accumulates. For some men, it is freedom and license to binge drink. Smiles appear on women’s faces and kids get their treats. Oh, doubtless payday is the Day.

For him, payday came and he had to cycle all the way from his home to his work place at the sugar plantations; a one hour cycle trek. He worked that day and when the designated time came for the wages to be handed out, he lined up and got his pay. He started back on his way home, very mindful that unscrupulous people could waylay him.

Well, he needn’t have worried about anyone at all. Harm did come but not from man. It came in a way he could never have imagined had it not happened to him. Four owls came out of the foliage on the right of the track and flew about above his head. He was disturbed and looked at the strange occurrence with trepidation. Owls in the daytime? He put some strength into the cadence, trying to put some space between himself and the owls but he was shocked when they dived in and flew into his face one after the other. He stopped the bicycle, now very alarmed and very afraid.

What could this mean? What was happening?

He got on his bicycle again, trembling with fear and cycled with all his might, the adrenaline pumping in his temples. But the advantage of flight is superior to locomotion on hard earth. The four owls easily caught up with him and savagely flew into his face once again and this time he fell off his bicycle and landed face down, injuring his lips and cheek which swelled. They began pecking at him and scratching him. They did this for some time while he screamed and flailed his arms wildly about. Quite suddenly, they ceased and flew away.

Deeply traumatised, he wasted no time but got onto his bicycle and rode helter-skelter for the comfort and protection of his home, having seen the devil. He is now ensconced in the confines of his home, afraid to cycle to work again as he seeks help from ‘wise men’.

Peculiar News Compilation
'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'
© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018