Servant Thievery

She was dragged mercilessly to the balcony, clutching her black plastic trash bag close to her side as if her life depended on it. The dusty, mosquito-infested balcony was perhaps two feet wide, five feet long. She stared aimlessly into the crowded and polluted city of Dhaka, Bangladesh, a woman in her early twenties. The balcony door was slammed shut and locked. Tears rolled down her face as she tightened her scarf insecurely, her hands shaking. The little ones banged the balcony door, taunting and jeering. *** Earlier that...


A Mother’s Gift: Part I

I looked at my watch, holding it under a streetlight. 12:00 – midnight. I ran down the street, heart racing, shoes pounding against the wet concrete. Bleak, dull houses passed in a blur under the blotchy night sky as I gasped for air, checking the road behind me to see if anyone had followed. I reached the porch of our house, dim light visible through the cracked window in the door. I opened the door slowly to keep the creaks to a minimum. I took slow, careful steps over...