These natives have the smiles we haven’t seen since we were children.
We never really had what might be considered a normal conversation.
For sixty or maybe seventy years this sidewalk has been lying here.
The scent of lighter fluid and tobacco drifted in through the window.
Any white man without a servant was presumed to be in need of help.
They rise in waves, while a lone hawk remains unperturbed.
He is too young even to be drinking let alone educating us.