Dapper in a topcoat and tails, feet moving fast and graceful as birds skimming still waters, he whirled and swooped, catching my mother, still young and slim, by the waist, bending her backward. She ... [+]
Originally published in the online market|tap| litmag.
Within a few weeks of her escape, the girl outgrew her only dress and had nothing to wear. Trying not to make a fuss, I gave her something of mine. She thanked me. She looked so ashamed. That she, a child forced to comfort soldiers, should suffer shame for a baby fathered by violence, made me glower. No doubt that made her feel worse. Her face began to collapse like a grass shack in the wind. "Please, Mam," she said. "I can work." "Of course you can," I said. "There is always work." The weather should have been friendlier. The monsoons did not usually come so early. Rain poured down during the