I gripped my bag under the dim light of the candle, the only light source in the room. My Mother was worried sick about me going out. “Sweetie, are you sure?” She asked with a worried look covering her face. I smiled a reassuring smile the best I could, and spoke with the most calming voice I could to her.
“Don’t worry, mama.” I responded. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know, I know, but after what happened with you and that John man. . .” She said, realizing once she said his name she made a mistake. I hated to hear about him.
“As I said, I’ll be fine. Good night, mama.” I said, and walked out. In the reflection of the glass on the door I could tell she was looking at the ground. The dim light of the moon glistened on my light blonde hair, and covered my bag of fruits. Some men gave me looks of why I was out so late. I scorned back at them. I had a bag of coins, and a bag of food. I would