Month

I see her standing on my side, slightly behind me, waiting in line. The day is hot and humid. It's midday. Her lips are dry, cracking in some parts. Her last taste of food and water would have probably been before the break of dawn. This is the month, a month of restraint, a month of purity -- in the mind and heart, a test of spiritual endurance. I smile at her as if to give courage though I do not subscribe to such a belief. A tiny smile curves on her lips, acknowledging mine. It is my turn now to engage with the machine. Unfortunately, at this stage, it is this machine that enslave us to this world.