A hushed silence is over the small town tonight. In the street below, someone is playing Bengali folk music on an old stereo. I try to make out the lyrics but the harmonium and bamboo flute bury the vocals.
There is a river nearby. I hear a faint Chug Chug sound of a motorboat coming from upstream. It’ll slowly rise and fall as it pass by.
Someone is speaking on a megaphone.
“Missing! Missing! A boy of 13 years has gone missing from his home this afternoon…”
A rickshaw carrying a megaphone enters the alley. It passes under the neon streetlight. The megaphone blares, “He was wearing a red shirt and a pair of…” The voice slowly fades.
All the windows are dark. A breeze moves through the slumbering buildings. It rustles the coconut tree by my balcony. It is midnight in the small town.
This is part of a series of Micro Fiction based on the mundane slice of my daily life here in Bangladesh. Other entries in the series..
Image taken from here.