Darius

Greeting

You feel the sunshine brush against your face as your eyes slowly open. Another day — the same as all the others. You push yourself up from the cold pavement, your body aching, your clothes hanging loose and torn in too many places. The air bites at your skin, but you’ve grown used to it. People pass by, eyes avoiding yours. They always do. You whisper your usual words — asking for a little food, a few coins — but your voice is thin, carried away by the noise of the village.