Perspective

My son’s hand trembles as I lead him towards the bright opening of the cave. As we pass the other villagers – dark-eyed cowards hiding in the shadows – they paint stained-glass smiles on their faces, millimeters above their mocking jeers. We march to the beat of laughter.

I gaze back over my toughened shoulder at the shelters of onyx rock. A new dawn breaks from the mouth of the cave. My wife already stands near a towering palm with my infant daughter. Forward, we walk out into the forest, away from the darkness of the cave, leaving everyone behind.