The silent group arrives at sunrise. A lone man herds the boys before him, his eyes the only ones unscarred.
Begging bowls are distributed before seating positions are allocated.
They listen for the sound of his footsteps, for that is what they heard the night he burned away their sight.
Mark Farley is currently writing a fifty-word bio but is just about to finish. He lives and works in the UK but misses the African sunshine of his childhood. He is working on a novel narrated by a sarcastic dragon and blogs his random attempts at creative writing at mumbletoes.blogspot.co.uk.