Portraits of Brief Encounters: #3 In a Series of Sadness

The boy squatted in the grass, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, sobbing. A girl, younger than he, watched confused. She threw her hands in the air as if to say “what’s wrong with you, boy?” She patted him on the head but he continued to sob. She babbled to him in toddler tongue and got nothing. She spun in circles like she was trying to catch the answer to whatever it was that would make the boy stop crying. Finally she pulled up handfuls of grass and dropped them on his head. He wailed as the blades flittered down his face.