A Girl.

When I was in the upper valley, I went to someone’s house, quietly. A girl brought tea. She was very young, you see. Maybe twelve. Her eyes looked tired as well. They said she was their niece. Her parents were gone bearing no peace. She held the tray carefully. She knew what to do, steadily. She did not speak. I could not eat. The tea stayed untouched at my seat. I had nothing to say. As i kept thinking, how much work it takes just to eat every day. She stood there for a moment, then went back inside. Her eyes stayed with me, quiet, side by side.