They sat there and waited.
It was the only place they could be.
Dora looking on with glassy eyes
Lati, hugging her empty bowl.
At times she stirred and the bowl fell to the ground.
Its empty sound is louder now that no one is around
It sounds just as empty as her stomach.
She stirs again and the bowl falls again.
It sounds like it is saying,
"No food today Lati”,
Maybe she can hear it
For this time she does not touch it.
Just for a while she looks at it
And then she starts to cry.
She digs into her tangled mass of thick brown hair
And scratches without mercy.
It must have hurt for she winced and stopped
Oh yes, blood, there is some tell tale flesh under her nails.
She inspects it, smiles and nods.
Dora hates days like this.
She looks up at the sky and murmurs a curse.
She scowls at Lati and turns away.
It is the best shade in the market place
But there is hardly any room,
Maybe she would have moved further away
Instead of cram into the corner.
At times like this she hated the creature.
If only the rain knew what they went through
When the sun did not shine.
« return.