Cut Wood

I stood useless as the business of the house continued around me. This construction company, next to the highway that led out of the city, was a cinderblock of a home, and the only yard for the children to play in was an industrial driveway for building supplies, where a mynah bird was kept in a cage, never having learned human speech.

In a bin I found pieces of wood that had been ripped apart into smaller pieces for the fire that cooked our food. As the servant gathered these into his cart, I picked up my camera and took a photograph, not of him, but of the dry dead cellulose.