(A short story in less than 99 words.)

It is later than I thought and darkness fills the alley. Two men are silhouetted against the street light’s glow at far end of the lane. They are huddled in conspiracy; unlit faces glancing up at my approaching footsteps. I must pass uncomfortably close, and as I do a phone rings in a pocket. The light of the answered call falls on dark faces. The voice from the phone is a high, clear child’s voice, I can hear it distinctly. The faces I see lit up are those of a father and grandfather happy to hear news from home.

Dhaka 2014