Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Monday, August 14, 2006
more grief than words can describe
the working day seems destined for an unusually early finish and i make my way cheerfully towards the office for some chat via the mens' locker room
as i open the locker room's door, a small man in factory clothing is standing behind it
he is clutching a mobile phone and has wedged himself in to a corner to weep
his english is poor
he is alone
when i ask about his trouble, he shakes his head, unable at first to put words to the shape of his pain
eventually he tells me that his sister's children, survivors of the tsunami in sri lanka, have just been killed by a government plane bombing their orphanage
as i open the locker room's door, a small man in factory clothing is standing behind it
he is clutching a mobile phone and has wedged himself in to a corner to weep
his english is poor
he is alone
when i ask about his trouble, he shakes his head, unable at first to put words to the shape of his pain
eventually he tells me that his sister's children, survivors of the tsunami in sri lanka, have just been killed by a government plane bombing their orphanage
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)