Zula

she glanced towards a section of the field that was not occupied by children running ramped and looked at me with wide brown eyes. she grabbed my hand, along with my camera, and we took off across the field towards some small houses. 

we took fun pictures around every nook and cranny and enjoyed each others company and warm laughter after each photo that was taken. for most of the afternoon, it was just me and Zula. 

she loved having her photo taken. and i loved taking them. she picked the best spots. whether it was under a clothing line, against a tree, or beside a rustic door she could make any place become beautiful. as we searched for new spots to bring to life with her lively smile, she carried around a coin and a broken piece of a sunglasses lens proudly in her left hand and gently grasped my hand into her right. 

soon, the whistle blew and the afternoon had come to a close. on our journey back to CRO, she rode on my back singing songs of joy and love. she would sing and i would jump and we would dance like nobody was watching, when clearly they were. 

my heart broke leaving her there to go back to living on the streets. can't i just take her home with me?

as i'm sitting here writing this to you, i think about the moment when Zula took my hand and tugged me towards the other side of the field. the part of the field with all the fun backdrops shaped as houses. the part of the field where we spent the entire afternoon just loving life and each other.

Today it was me and Zula against the world.