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By Ibrahim Mutili

Suddenly there was no moon, no ground, no gravity. There was no stability, no one sun, no steady streamed. Everything was a mess of sun and sky and sea, flushed with the brilliant gold and bronze of sunset, except the world was tossed on its head, as if the planet itself was revolving suddenly with violent speed. The world became a smearing of pastel-like colors. The houses blurred together, leaving behind shadows of red roof tiles and brown wooden shutters. The lights from within them streaked like comets. The leaves were ripped from the trees, scattering along behind like the feathery parts of a thistle which you blow upon and dismember. The water in the rivers surged up and over the banks, because as the earth turned and tilted, these spilled over on one side, running down the slanted face of the earth like a curtain of tears.

I was walking in the street, strolling to the bakery to get breakfast for my love who was still sleeping. The instant I felt the earth slide from beneath my feet, I lunged for the nearest lamppost. I clung to it for dear life, grateful it was so deeply embedded into the earth. I dangle like a cloth, first sideways and parallel to the ground, and then upside-down with my feet dangling toward the direction of the sky, then sideways, and then right-side up again.

The quick thinkers had also latched on to objects like mine, and we looked at each other with big frightened eyes, and wondered when the spinning of the world would end.

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