Of Art and Love.

The air filled with the aroma of deep-fried buns 'mandazi.She pulled down the duvet to her waist, the golden sun was dancing through the tiny holes in her pink curtain. She smiled. Mary, her fifteen-year-old sister was already up making her way to the kitchen, bouncing down the wooden staircases noisily."Vibe Killer", Olive thought, groaning, she pulled the duvet back to her face. As she shut her eyes tightly, she imagined all the adventure and fun she would experience from tomorrow. The end of her days of having to ask for permission like a prisoner were just a few short hours away. It was the Eve of the New Year. The Eve of her eighteenth birthday. How wide was Kenya? How deep was it? How many people live here? What do they wear? Do they listen to the music she does? Her heart was beating faster as she thought this over and over, her eyes still tightly shut, inside her perfectly white duvet."OLIVE!" Mary yelled from the bottom of the staircase."What now!?", Olive frustatedly wondered, kicking her feet in the air.Her bedroom door flew open,the aroma was now fully filled in the air. "Olive, amka!Kuja Uone kitu!" (Olive, get up! Come see something!) Though younger than Olive, Mary was a tall, apple-figured brown girl. Her wide black eyes were filled with secrets and plots, you never knew who was next on her target list. She often carried an air of mystery about her, coupled with her annoying habit of remembering almost everything. Well, every wrong. Her classwork was not so lucky. A typical Scorpio. Olive, a Capricorn, was always perplexed by her being sandwiched between two textbook Scorpios. Karen, her elder sister's birthday was a weekend ahead of Mary's, in November. The fights they had in the house when they were younger were epic. So epic neighbors would sit to discuss them like episodes in a wrestling series. The love was stronger. Karen and Mary were Olive's best friends growing up. Her ride or die.