Can I paint a picture for you where four roads meet and a story is told?
A young man closes his eyes and I hear a six-year-old huff and puff as his feet dash from tree to tree.
“Please soldiers don’t look up from your noon day sleep.”
He and his family run back to their hut to get some of their belongings.
“There it is the book that my teacher gave me to read.”
A dusty road forks and a long line of refugees trudge southward.
“No one wants you” people wave their hands to ward them off.
makeshift wooden buildings are put up in the south
“Stay here. No one cares.”
Some at the end of the war don’t return the journey is too painful
Others have lived on the edge of the war zone – waiting
The dust on the road finally clears
one family then two…
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