#1 Prose Fiction - A Flash Fiction

Heaven On Earth

It was already dusk. The birds flew noisily in the sky, excited to back home perhaps. The hen and the chicks were clucking aimlessly around the wall. There was also a duck with its’ ducklings heading to the underneath of the house slowly. Mak Sah looked at her duck and the ducklings, she blinked a few times just to make sure she got the correct number of the ducklings. She rested her hands on the rickety old stairs while she reluctantly sat on the first stairs.

After she makes sure that all of her farm animals entered their respective stalls, she sighed, "It is quite hard to handle all of those animals with my age now", she mumbled with her voice sounded very uneasy and slow, hard to be heard by anyone. Suddenly, she remembered her late husband. All of the animals were once been in his care. He really likes to farming and rearing farm animals. He suffered for gout about five years before he left his wife and his five children, and also all of his animals forever.

“Mak!”, “O Mak!”.

Mak Sah awoke from her imagination. She turned back and saw her youngest daughter at the house door. She smiled and said, ‘Why you calling me dear?’, she slowly got up from the stairs and cleaned her sit. “What are you doing Mak, it’s almost 7.30 p.m. Let’s prepare to Maghrib prayer”, she said smoothly with her cute little mouth. She was 7 yet Mak Sah had taught her how to pray and for every time of prayer, they will have time to pray together. Mak Sah replied, “Okay, let’s prepare ourselves to pray. By the way, where are your sisters and brothers, Ain?”.

“Kak Aisyah and Kak Hajar just finished bathing, Abang Man is feeding the chicks at the back door, but … “, she paused her speech, thinking and counting her siblings that had been mentioned. “Oh, Abang Rul is still not home, Mak”.

“What, where is Azrul?”, Mak Sah worried.

“Mak!”,

A voice heard from far while Mak Sah was entering the house. She turned her head to the house compound to see who was calling. Azrul was waving his hands to his mother. He parked his old bicycle at the edge of the house and quickly stepping onto the stairs.

“Mak, sorry for being home late. I was helping Pak Mat carrying his fruits baskets just now,” Azrul said with his breathed sounded exhausted. “It’s okay but next time don’t be late again, it’s almost 8 p.m. Go and prepare yourself for the prayer”, she replied. “Okay, Mak!”.

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“O Allah! Make the beginning of this day good, the middle prosperous, and the end successful. We ask You to grant us the good of this world and of the Hereafter, O Most Merciful of all Who show us mercy!”, Azman ended the dua after the prayer.

“Amin!”, all of them replied.

Mak Sah was very happy with her children. Azman will sit for SPM this year. Aisyah and Hajar were both in Form 2 and 3. Azrul was in Year 6, also busy with his UPSR. Every evening he studied with his friends. And the last most precious Mak Sah’s wealth was Ain, Year 1. She hugged her. She looked so innocent in the white ‘kain sembahyang’.

“Mak, let’s have our dinner after this. We had prepared the food”, Aisyah said while slowly removing her scarf. “Okay, let’s eat together, children”, Mak Sah replied. There were tears that she held from gliding naturally from her eyes. Nobody noticed that. She knew that she was strong, strong enough to face the challenges of raising children alone.

“That day will come. The day Allah will repay all of my hardships and sacrifices with my successful children.”

“Amin!”, without she realized, she uttered it. Slow. Very slow.