we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Red light

Don't be so fast to ignore those children who annoy you on the street, trying to sell what they can.

 

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Red light.
He knocks on the car's window.
He is a child with 70-year-old eyes.
He smiles, but it’s a mask.
His little hands reach to the car, holding out two silver-wrapped sticks.
An insistent voice: “You want gum? Please, take gum.”
Green light.
His feet carry his little body back to the pavement,
Closely holding his pocket.
He sits waiting for the next red.

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