Our military man, needing to relive himself wandered a short distance into the forest. By the ravine and the bridge, he pulled down his trowsers, only to be disturbed by two dark skinned children who merrily crossed the bridge from one side of the ravine to the other. Our man pulled up his trousers swiftly and pretended he was out for a walk, admiring the view. Lagging behind the kids, was their father. The group of them walked back towards the town, which was occupied by our man and his fellow troops. Past razor wire and big trucks which rumbled by. Our man, spoke with the father, who was considered and walked slowly with his hands in his pockets. The father recommended a book, which by sheer coincidence our man had read on the plane over. 3 short pages. The father brought the book from his pocket and asked our man what he thought of the middle passage where the school burnt down and the children were all trapped inside. Our man, frowning, said it was a horrible scene that depicted perhaps many things. The end of childhood, the ravages of war and human cruelty. The father nodded, passing the man the collection of short stories ‘as a gift you see’.

Later that day our man read the opening page of the book, where a soldier walked into the forest to relieve himself, only to be stumbled upon by two children and their father. They crossed the bridge. The soldier didn’t notice, and the father struck him across the head with a club and rolled his body over the cliff edge. Later that day the school burned.