The Free State of Akoranti

The static-soaked song filtered in through the headphones in Dominic Hagan's ears. His eyes worked themselves open to the rhythm of the drumline, slowly blinking away the green dreams of Leonis back into the grim, rust-rimmed grey of reality. They rolled over to the cracked touch-screen cell phone at the side of his cot. 'Aesop Rock' lit up his screen, his 5 AM alarm flashing.

He rolled back thin blankets, sleeping muscles groaning awake as he sat up out of his bed. A dim gold filtered in through a nearby window, the first light of an early morning.

He threw off his sheets. Warm feet met the cold concrete floor and woke up the parts of his legs that were still sleeping. He padded quietly over to the window, cell phone in hand, Daylight still rolling around in his head as he rested his hand against the terrace. Clear blue eyes misted out into the city of Biko, a thin dagger of light slicing it cleanly in half at the point where the rising sun met the horizon. Sunlight, true sunlight, was a hard thing to come by in Biko. If it wasn't rain, it was overcast. If it wasn't overcast, it was city smog. The mornings were bleak and hazy, the afternoon sky as grey and pallid as rain-soaked concrete. Dominic had missed many things since he'd first came to Biko six months ago, but he might have missed sunlight the most. He savored it as often as it could whenever it presented itself.

Tearing himself reluctantly away from the window, Dominic headed back to his cot and began rummaging through a woodchewn chest of drawers. He threw off his clothes, picking out a clean towel before nabbing his toothbrush and a thinning bar of soap from a cloth bag beneath his shirts. The sound of running water droned from the nearby showers that his side of the complex shared - the early risers, of whom Dominic considered himself an acolyte, were getting ready for the day.

Throwing the towel over his shoulder, Dominic headed for the showers.