What I saw was life and death. Not bodies, but souls.

I will never forget her standing in front of the kiosk. Emaciated. And yet — there was fire in her eyes. She asked for money. How could I say no?

We bought what secured survival. Water. Where I come from, it exists in abundance. Here, its absence is a risk.

The landscape was dry — straw-colored earth, lone trees stretching upward, defiant against the sun. Life reduced to what endures heat.

I saw bones on the hard ground. Animal bones. White against dust.

A veil passed through my thoughts. It offered no shade.

And I thought of Maria.