The women of her family are in the line. Great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, sisters, aunts. A desire for flesh pays for her meals. A desire to take something that does not belong to them pays for her clothing. A thin, translucent curtain is all that separates her from witnessing her sister’s work. Night after night she escapes to the roof, escapes from the sounds and the sights. The stillness of the sky runs into the calamity of the street below and as she flies a kite, she wishes she could climb the string to escape her life. What does her future hold? Work in the line is the short answer. Who can help her when customers offer a simple solution to the rumblings in her tummy? Who can come to her rescue when those around her give her no other options? Where has the innocence gone? The innocence once experienced by children, now a faded memory in the pages of history. What about her story? What does her future hold?
The women of his family are in the line. Great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, sisters, aunts. A desire for flesh pays for his meals. A desire to take something that does not belong to them pays for his clothing. As the men drink and smoke, he waits. As the men violate his mother, he waits. As the men strip at the womb that he once called home, he waits. His father sits outside, smoking hash, not as concerned with the welfare of his family, instead worrying whether his wife will make enough to support his addiction. He escapes to the roof and stares at the stars, wondering if there is a better life. Wondering where his life will lead. After they are finished, the men leave without paying. It is his job to chase them and make sure that his family can buy food. If he fails, he is beaten, his mother is beaten, their stomachs are empty. What does his future hold?
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