“I just could not,” was my laconic reply to Papa when he asked me years ago, why I didn’t tell on Mrs. B*****. “I would’ve had a word with her,” he asserted.
I open my eyes and there is still blackness. The air is chilly. I am certain the sun has not yet risen. My siblings are still fast asleep. My mother, still in deep slumber. Time to get up before I am tempted to lie down again. Continue reading “A Barrio Tale”