Desert Roads
By Mustafa Shaheed Davis
We stopped at a street side store to buy milk, vegetables and some dried meat. I swore the meat was alive until I realized that it was just the flies that had occupied its entire surface. I was definitely no longer in California. To the right was a young boy, I’d say he was about 7 years old with a lesion on his head and a blood saturated dirty bandage that was barely fixed to his wound. Flies crawled in and out of his nose and mouth and he made no attempt to wipe them away. He just sat there, almost lifeless and stared at me with his head hung low. His gaze pierced my very soul. The boy kept his eyes fixed on me as we drove away, never blinking once and never changing his expression. I can remember his face as if it was yesterday, and when I experience any type of tribulation, I remember him… the little boy who taught me a lifetime of lessons with just one glance. [Read More...]
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