Month: February 2013

We lived in an apartment a quarter of a mile from the heart of the city. Our room was nestled into the back with a decent walk in closet and bathroom.

The camper ambles its way through the Tete Province, Mozambique on a sweltering, humid late afternoon in 1975. Our 13 months? old son is dozing off in his seat ? I sit next to him and hold the bottle he has just finished drinking.

The lone car sits in the deep of the morning, waiting for its owner to return. The car had been parked in this same spot the day before, glistening with the moistness of the morning dew. At 4:00 a.m. the sky still shadows the darkness all around the town, hiding the sins of its citizens.

Carol got on the bus, sat down, and quietly wept.

The front left wheel of Jack’s shopping cart spun in circles, making it hard to push up the incline and over the rough asphalt. He leaned his hip into the left side of the handle, and it went more or less straight. It was time to find a new cart.

We eat scrambled eggs around the scratched wood kitchen table, wiping the sleep from our eyes and kneading it from our necks. We slather sunscreen on the babies’ puckered faces, we haul the pink-and-