Their faces haunt me. The man with the skin burned right off his back. The boy with the bones sticking out of his leg. The man bent over near double, carrying sticks to sell for food. The blind woman whose rough hands patted my face. The baby with sores and scars covering his legs. Yet,…
I woke up early that morning because the donkey that Willem tied outside our bedroom window started braying. It was still mostly dark but the tiniest splinters of light were peaking over the mountain surrounding us. I rolled out of bed, slipped bare feet into flip-flops and wandered down to the bathroom. Using a flashlight, I…
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