Laos early morning observations
First he carefully lays his carpet on his tiny spot of sidewalk and arranges his wares before the tourists awaken. Priorities.
The row of braided strings is a meager lot, the single color products of limited resources. The spot is uncontested, being far from any trees or buildings and having no hope of shade from the brutal Laotian sun. He straightens his tiny space as much as he can, picking stray debris from the half-square-meter spot.
The last thing he does is tie two pink rags over the horrific scars where his legs used to be.
-------------
Monks and cats move about in the early morning, saffron robes and white fur contrasting the pungent pools of the broken sewer. A sex worker runs in spurts of anxiousness, her sandals slapping the asphalt evert twenty feet or so when she has to slow down to catch her breath. Several ornate arches rise in the background, looking trapped behind the rickety chain-link fence.
----
Posted via LiveJournal.app.