For the rest of her days
She leans back on the bench, trembling, her eyes closed, her fingers playing with the small silver cross around her neck. She can hear the innocent, carefree laughter of children on the swings, but feels apart, contaminated, filthy. She opens her eyes; a toddler is watching her. He grins. She cannot bring herself to grin back and quickly stands. And takes the first steps towards home. As she leaves…
