It’s their eyes.
That’s what I remember most.
Not the smell. Not the dirt and dust stiffening their clothes and hair, crusted on their skin, jammed under their fingernails. I stopped seeing that after awhile. Not the perpetually drippy noses. Not the cheeks on men, women, and babies alike all chapped black.
Read the rest on Deeper Story.
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Wow!! The words were perhaps slow in coming because it hurts to write them and to read them. I have for a long while now considered myself a spoiled rotten American. Thanks for validating that feeling. Beautifully written post, Joy!