A Guardian and a Thief

AT THE POLICE STATION, THE officer who let ma and Dadu sit down at his desk opened a tiffin box stuffed with cheese sandwiches, and took a bite. The man kept talking, only pausing to shake his head at the picture of the thief, and continued even when the rain slowed and Ma, Dadu, and Mishti crept out and began walking away. Hope for the future was no shy bloom but a blood-maddened creature, fanged and toothed, with its own knowledge of history’s hostilities and the cages of the present. And, finally, he told her that the business had a strict payment policy.