A picture I didn't take

A child sick, eyes closed and voice lowered in the outpatients clinic in the central hospital. Around me voice from all over the far near east chat away in tongues and dialects I do not understand,. Mothers and fathers fret, and worry over their kids. An outpouring of love and affection that touches me to the core. In a room with a door that never closes another mother sits and watches her child sleeping. She doesn't move or complain just listlessly turns over from time to time.

A picture I didn't take.

At the base of the red column something catches his eye. He nudges it and tentatively lifts up the corpse of a small bird. Red and grey, I think. Turning round he flashes me a smile and holds it up, horrifying the woman passing by with his new trophy. A change I guess from a daily routine of selling trinkets to those of us lucky to be able to pay three Euros for a coffee on the seafront. No fun, however, if you're seven years old.

Inspired by Unphotographable.com