THE AWAKENING
Early one morning the Muslim's azan awoke me from my sleep. Strange it seemed, exotic even to one who had never heard it before. It came like a dream, this faint voice from a kampung mosque, two kilometres away. It alone roused me from my sleep. Neither the nearby rooster's crowing nor the motorbike's droning caught my ear. Only seconds later did I notice them. By what design I was summoned to hear it, if any, I do not know. But ever since that time I have risen each day, before dawn, to hear the call to prayer and listen in awe.
© Breyel, Timm. "The Awakening". All rights reserved.
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