ii ⊰video/action⊱
[The mirror opens to a scene early in the morning. Fela is near the orchard, the hills and the tops of the apple trees visible in the distance, small and quaint looking from this vantage point. There is a snake twined around one of her ankles, and when she turns at the sound of the blossoming mirror, her eyes are incredibly dark, her smile is dazed and serene. The serpent at her bare feet slithers off as begins to rummage around in the beaded purse that is strung across her body.
She's distracted for a moment staring off after it, but returns to her task soon enough. From inside her purse, she takes out a bundle of brightly colored cloth, tied up securely, and begins to fight the knot loose. A pile of dirt is there in her hands, and she stares at it silently for a moment, contemplating.
She tosses the dirt into the air suddenly, fabric and all, the ground cloud of it rising up like a storm for a moment, blocking out all sight until it begins to settle. The house that takes form from within the chaos is a simple, mud bricks and a wooden roof, no door, the entrance is covered by an enlarged version of the cloth she had used to wrap up the dirt. For a few feet around the house the grass has turned instead to hard packed clay that will grow warm as the sun beats down on it. She turns back to the mirror, she puts her palm flat on the surface, resting her forehead against the glass. The markings on her face, deep stains around her eyes and another the shape of a thumb on her forehead, are clearly visible. When she speaks, her voice is warm, groggy, like a woman half asleep.]
The smoke does not let us stay in one place, but this home will be mine. I have never had one of my own, I know I couldn't have, could only have walked their empty rooms in dreaming, dusty sunlit things and blackened rooms tarred with bad memories, but this... this will be mine.
Please come. Please come to see it, and let me be a hostess. I invited the snakes, but they tell me they are much too busy. I will gather fruits and flowers for you, and there's so much water here, I'll make tea.
Please come. [She gives the mirror another hazy smile before she heads off to make good on her promise of fruits and flowers. The house is covered with flora by the time anyone arrives.]
She's distracted for a moment staring off after it, but returns to her task soon enough. From inside her purse, she takes out a bundle of brightly colored cloth, tied up securely, and begins to fight the knot loose. A pile of dirt is there in her hands, and she stares at it silently for a moment, contemplating.
She tosses the dirt into the air suddenly, fabric and all, the ground cloud of it rising up like a storm for a moment, blocking out all sight until it begins to settle. The house that takes form from within the chaos is a simple, mud bricks and a wooden roof, no door, the entrance is covered by an enlarged version of the cloth she had used to wrap up the dirt. For a few feet around the house the grass has turned instead to hard packed clay that will grow warm as the sun beats down on it. She turns back to the mirror, she puts her palm flat on the surface, resting her forehead against the glass. The markings on her face, deep stains around her eyes and another the shape of a thumb on her forehead, are clearly visible. When she speaks, her voice is warm, groggy, like a woman half asleep.]
The smoke does not let us stay in one place, but this home will be mine. I have never had one of my own, I know I couldn't have, could only have walked their empty rooms in dreaming, dusty sunlit things and blackened rooms tarred with bad memories, but this... this will be mine.
Please come. Please come to see it, and let me be a hostess. I invited the snakes, but they tell me they are much too busy. I will gather fruits and flowers for you, and there's so much water here, I'll make tea.
Please come. [She gives the mirror another hazy smile before she heads off to make good on her promise of fruits and flowers. The house is covered with flora by the time anyone arrives.]