As the morning sun rolled over the high hills, the aroma of freshly brewed traditional coffee and the sound of the crowing rooster diffused through the spice scented atmosphere.

Tall olive trees that surrounded the small settlements made from stones, mud and wood outnumbered the grapevines.

The faint sound of music playing from their elderly neighbour's radio filled the kitchen space.

Salma with her loose wavy hair dancing over her shoulders was humming to the music while bustling around the kitchen  chopping vegetables and simmering a pot of stew on the stove.

"You know it's really not safe Ahmad." She was now packing her husband's lunch.

Ahmad was silent for a few minutes before his voice came.

He had some weird accent.

"Yeah I know that."

"Then why do you still insist on staying here?" She emerged from the kitchen with three lunch packs.

Ahmad was dressed for work, donning his olive green uniform and sipping from the cup of sweet mint tea his wife had served him earlier.

A smile formed on his lips as he walked to where Salma stood.

He placed his cup of tea on the low table before placing both of his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently as if telling her not to worry about him.

"Because I'm in this with you." he kissed the side of her head and collected one of the lunch packs from her hands.

Salma let out the usual sigh she always released whenever her husband's answer came.

Some part of her felt happy hearing his replies but other parts felt somewhat sober because she felt he wasn't supposed to be taking such risks.

"No that one's not yours," She exchanged the pack with another one. "This is your own."

Ahmad picked up his black bag and shoved his lunch into it hastily.

"The young boy still comes over huh?" He was now putting on his sandals.

Salma nodded as she made her way back into the kitchen.

"His mother recently fell ill, so I've been preparing soup for her." The air transferred the sound of her voice into his ears.

A light knock on the front door followed shortly after Salma's words.

"I think he's here already." Ahmad got up on his feet and walked to the door with his shoulder bag on.

"Is it him?" She untied the shawl around her waist and covered her hair with it.

Ahmad opened the wrickety door and right there, on their threshold stood a boy with skin that looked like it was partly covered in dirt and mops of brown hair fell down his face nearly hiding his tiny innocent eyes.

His hands held tight to the handles of a polyethene bag.

His bare feet was engulfed in multiple layers of dust.

The little boy was the son of the couple's neighbour whose husband had passed away couple of years back.

Salma met him for the first time at the masjid during one of the fajr prayers alongside his mother.

"Assalamualaikum." His tiny voice came out crisp clear.

He looked not more than ten or eleven years of age.

"Walaikumu Salam Habibi." Salma cooed and Ahmad just nodded in response.

His curious eyes studied Ahmad as it was his first time seeing him.

Whenever he would come to get food for his mother and himself from Salma, Ahmad was either still asleep or already out for work.

"I'll get going now." Ahmad patted his wife's head and dashed the little boy a warm smile.

"Be careful." Salma's voice called behind her husband as she closed the door once she and the boy were inside the comfort of their house.

"Is he your husband?" His voice came again as he studied the space they were standing in.

They were standing inside her house. He had never been inside it before.

On a normal day, he would knock on the door then wait until Salma answered it and handed him the usual bowls of food before he returned home.

"Yes Habibi, he's my husband." Salma collected the nylon from his hold and  arranged the bowls inside it.

Once she was done, he reached for the nylon but Salma stopped his hands.

"How's your mother doing now?" She questioned even though he had told her the day before that she was still the same.

"Still the same," his usual answer came. "And she says thank you for the food." Salma's warm hand held onto his freezing cold ones.

Her eyes shifted from their entwined hands to his face.

"You can have your bath here, I'll heat up some water, have a seat," she began tying the shawl around her waist after she pointed at the stiff carpet for him to sit on. "And I'll bring you hot tea." She ended her sentence with a developed smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I have to leave as soon as possible, Amma must be already hungry."he trailed behind Salma.

He seemed like a prestigious child to Salma because of how well he constructed his english sentences unlike some of the other kids in the neighborhood who were alien to the language.

Salma halted and examined the contents on the small tabletop with her hands at akimbo.

"Okay then, have this first,"she removed the circular wood that was on the rim of the cup and handed the warm milk she had reserved for herself to him. " Once you're done with everything you need to do, you can come back later and bath okay?" Salma placed one of her palms on his messy hair and the other on his cheek.

He gulped down the content in the aluminum cup before handing it back to Salma.

His small lips curled up into a splendid smile as he bubbled his head up and down delightfully after licking the white mark the milk had left around his mouth.

"Thank you! Yes yes, I'll come as soon as I'm done." The warm curve of his lips could turn frowns to smiles.

After exiting the front door with the nylon in his hands, Salma watched as he galloped down the dusty street till he was out of sight before closing the door.

The best way she loved to start her morning with was now ticked off the list of things to-do for the day.